It Starts with a Promise
by BonesBBLover
Summary: A series of 100 situations in the ever evolving relationship between Booth and Bones. Part I is friendship and partnership. Story goes AU after the second season.
1. Promise

**My new challenge fic: to write BB in 100 different situations. Basically these are going to be 100 different events in the evolution of the relationship between Booth and Brennan, beginning with them as partners and friends, but not yet together. I'm going to try to update at least once per day, but probably multiple times on weekends.**

**Spoilers for this chapter: 2x11 Judas on a Pole.**

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Chapter 1—Promise

Hours after the rest of the squints had gone home, Booth finally forced Brennan to leave the diner. She had easily masked her out-of-control emotions while her colleagues were present, even joining in the celebration of Zach's doctorate, but as soon as they were gone she began to drown her sorrows in alcohol.

The two of them had sat in the diner, not speaking, as Brennan downed glass after glass while staring at the table. Booth had watched her, studying the way she drew pictures in the water on the table, worrying about her and knowing he wouldn't leave her alone tonight.

He knew he couldn't force her to talk about what had happened earlier that day, but he hoped she would talk to him about it in her own time, although he doubted she ever would. She was a very private person who bottled up her emotions to protect herself. Now that her family had left her again, he knew she probably wasn't going to open herself up to anyone for a long time. While they sat there in silence, he silently cursed her family for their terrible timing. They had been getting closer and opening up to each other more with each passing day, but now, she would re-erect her walls to be stronger and higher. He couldn't let her block him out. He was going to have to show her he was worthy of her trust, but he was at a loss of how to do it.

When she could no longer sit up straight, Booth knew it was time to get her home, no matter her response. With an arm wrapped tightly around her waist, he almost had to carry her out of the restaurant as she leaned heavily on him, unable to walk straight. He helped her into the SUV, having to reach across her small frame to buckle her in because she couldn't coordinate the buckle. Within minutes she had fallen asleep against the window, snoring softly.

When they had arrived at her apartment, he debated for a moment about waking her, but then decided against it. Brushing her hair away from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek, he unbuckled her and carried her sleeping form upstairs, cradling her close to his body. Giving a nod of acknowledgement to her neighbor in the hallway, he silently entered her apartment, trying not to wake her in fear of getting his ass kicked.

Placing her body gently on the bed, he took off her coat and shoes before tucking her in. As he placed a kiss on her forehead, she reached out for his hand and opened her eyes. "Stay with me tonight, Seeley?" she asked, her tone pleading with him.

Her request had nearly broken his heart, having to see his strong, self-reliant partner and best friend begging him to stay when her father and brother had walked out of her life for the second time. He knew he couldn't deny her anything tonight, and so he quickly removed his shoes and suit, leaving him in boxers and a muscle tee to crawl into bed beside her.

He held her close, their fingers laced together with his arms wrapped around her body, knowing it was inappropriate as partners and especially because he had a girlfriend. It didn't matter to him, though, because he couldn't leave her alone after everything she had been through.

She settled back against his chest, looking over at him as if to convince herself he was really there, her eyes reflecting her broken heart and swirling emotion. Turning away from him again, she whispered, "I don't know what I would do if you ever left me, Booth. I don't know…" her soft voice trailed off as sleep overtook her, her face muscles relaxing as her breathing evened out.

Rubbing small circles on her stomach, he gently kissed her neck, whispering softly, "I'll never leave you, Temperance. I promise, I'll never leave you."


	2. Mute

**I'm glad you guys seemed to like this one so far! Remember, this fic is going to be one continuous story, unlike 30 Kisses, so make sure you read the earlier chapters and review!!!**

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Chapter 2—Mute

_A few weeks later…_

Brennan was sitting in her office one afternoon, finishing up her paperwork for their most recent case, when she was suddenly startled by her partner dropping into the seat opposite her desk. She was surprised she hadn't heard his usual "Bones!" the minute he stepped through the doors, but the fact he still hadn't said a word since he entered her office made her start to wonder what was wrong.

He was usually so outgoing, calling her name at least five times in the first few minutes, and immediately making his presence known in the lab. When he entered quietly, or didn't talk to her, there was usually something wrong, and it always made her worry about what was affecting him.

"Booth?" she asked, studying his face. Although she couldn't read most people, over the years she had learned how to read him. His facial expression gave nothing away today, though, and if not for his continued silence, she never would have suspected something might be wrong.

He raised his eyebrows in response, still not saying a word.

"Booth, what's wrong?" she asked, her growing panic that she had done something or forgotten something evident in her voice. _It's not his birthday, that's next month. It's not a holiday. I haven't talked to him all day, so I couldn't have said something earlier. We went out for drinks last night, and I even let him walk me to the door without arguing with him, so he couldn't be mad at me from yesterday. What could I be missing?_

Hearing her worry, he just shook his head, trying to tell her nothing was wrong. Motioning for a pen, she handed it over, and a pad of paper. Thinking for a moment, he scribbled down "Larengitis" before passing the pad back to her.

She stared at it blankly for a moment before realization crossed her features. "You mean Laryngitis?" she asked, smiling broadly at his spelling and trying not to laugh at the cross look on his face. She could tell he was frustrated, but couldn't contain her laughter any longer. She imagined him interrogating a suspect in mime, since he wouldn't be able to talk for at least a whole day.

Rolling his eyes at her, he offered her a "Duh!" gesture, then slid their new case file across her desk. Standing up, he grabbed her coat and purse, helping her as he started pushing her out of the office.

"Booth! Give me a break, I'm going as fast as I can!" she said, struggling to read the file and get her coat on at the same time. Finally they managed to get out of the lab, her nose buried in the file as he drove towards the crime scene.

Arriving at the crime scene, Booth had to rely on Brennan to talk to the officer who had secured the site. He was thankful she had processed so many scenes with him, because she was able to ask all the questions he usually would in order to find out exactly what had happened. He was surprised by some of her questions, wondering for a moment if she was able to read his mind, because he had been debating how to ask them.

They processed the scene quickly as Booth took statements from the witnesses with the assistance of another agent. He was never so thankful to be able to go back to the lab, if just to get away from people giving him weird looks because he couldn't talk. His hopes of not having to try to communicate evaporated the minute they walked into the lab, when Hodgins accosted them in the hallway screaming government conspiracy.

"Dude, G-Man, you know the Feds killed the girl to get the governor out of office! He was fighting corruption within the state offices, which would eventually have proven the corruption of major federal officials!"

Glaring at Hodgins, Booth opened his mouth to tell him off, but no sound came out. His frustration grew exponentially as Hodgins stared at him before breaking out into laughter when he realized the reason for the silence.

Stomping off towards Brennan's office, Booth swore to himself that he wouldn't come out until he could tell Hodgins to shove it. Or until he needed to get dinner, whichever came first.


	3. Snow

**It's Christmas in July! I love the irony that I'm sitting on the beach in the sun and writing about Christmas and snow. I'm awesome like that, haha.**

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Chapter 3—Snow

It was that time of year, and once again, Brennan was alone for Christmas. She and Russ had made contact earlier that year and had been planning to spend Christmas together, until he ran off with her father, that is. She had let herself dream of having a family to spend the holidays with, and they left her again, alone for Christmas.

Her heart was broken, and she swore she wouldn't let anyone in again. People never stayed with her, no matter what they said or promises they made. They always left her. That was why on Christmas Eve, hours after everyone had left the Jeffersonian, she was still on the platform pouring over a set of remains from the Civil War.

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Booth, as usual, had left his Christmas shopping until Christmas Eve, and so by the time he was finished his shopping, he was too exhausted to do anything but fall into bed. Rebecca had agreed to let him have Christmas Day with Parker, and he couldn't have been more excited. The house was decorated, and the refrigerator was filled with everything he needed to make a Christmas feast. The last thing he thought about before sleep overtook him was his Bones, who he knew would be spending her day in the lab. Resolving to drag her out of the lab for dinner tomorrow, he drifted into a deep sleep filled with dreams of his partner.

* * *

Brennan was startled awake by her ringing cell phone at 11am on Christmas Day. Rolling her neck, trying to stretch out the sore muscles from sleeping on her desk, she answered the phone, knowing the only person who would call her on Christmas would be Booth. "Brennan," she said, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Merry Christmas, Bones!" he said, his voice too cheery for her sleep-filled mind.

"Bah humbug, Booth. I'm going back to sleep," she said, yawning as she walked toward her couch to find a more comfortable place to sleep.

"Bones! It's almost noon, you can't go back to sleep," he said, trying to keep her on the phone.

"Fine," she replied, wondering why he was calling her to bug her, "Why did you call?"

"Do I have to have a reason to call my favorite forensic anthropologist?" he asked, teasing her.

"You usually do. Especially because it's Christmas Day, and Rebecca is bringing Parker over in," she looked down at her watch, "less than an hour."

"Ok, ok, you caught me. I want you to join Parker and me for dinner tonight," he said, praying that she would agree.

"No, Booth. It's your holiday to spend with Parker. I don't want to intrude," she was stunned by his invitation, but wanted nothing more than to be with him today.

"Please, Temperance?" he asked again, using her first name to get her attention, "I invited you, it wouldn't be intruding."

"No, Booth. I don't want to interrupt the little time you get with Parker. And I don't know how to act around him anyway."

"Temperance, you wouldn't be interrupting anything. And Parker loves you, even if you use words he doesn't know. And…" he paused, searching for something to use as leverage, "I'll let you drive for a week."

She didn't answer him immediately, pretending to debate about it. "Ok," she finally said, grabbing her purse and coat and leaving the lab. If she was going to have dinner with Booth and Parker, she needed to go home to shower and change.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief. He didn't think one week of driving would do it, he figured he'd have to agree to at least a month.

"Yes, I'd love to come. What time should I come over? And do you need me to bring anything?'

"Can you come over around one? And don't worry about bringing anything, I've done more shopping for today than I usually do in a year," he was mentally running through his list of things to do before she came over, and he'd have to get started as soon as possible to be ready in time.

"Sounds good. I'll see you then. And, Booth?" she paused, trying to find the right words to say.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," she paused when she made it to her car, waiting for the windows to defrost, "for everything."

"Anything for you, Temperance. I'll see you in a few hours?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

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A couple of hours later, the three of them were running through the park, dodging and throwing snowballs as they went. Brennan ducked behind a tree just seconds before a snowball exploded against the trunk. Keeping low, she kept running, watching Booth out of the corner of her eye. As Parker ran in front of him, he stopped watching her and took aim at his son.

As he drew his arm back, he was suddenly hit in the side of the head, throwing him off balance. At the same time, Parker came running at him, jumping into his arms as they both fell backwards into the snow, giggling like children.

As father and son wrestled in the snow, Brennan collapsed onto a nearby bench, trying to catch her breath. Finally able to breath again, she scooped up a pile of snow and walked toward the pair, dropping the pile on top of them before she started running away.

Booth was too quick for her, though, and grabbed her leg, causing her to fall into the snow as he scrambled over to her. Pinning her to the ground with his body, he grinned down at her. "We're not going to let you get away that easily, Bones," he said, moving off of her just enough to scoop her up and throw her over his shoulder without her being able to fight him off.

Running down the hill with Parker following closely behind, he dumped her unceremoniously into a snow drift before grabbing Parker and jumping in, too. The three were laughing uncontrollably, still throwing snowballs at each other, when she realized she was actually having fun. She felt as if she belonged somewhere. And it didn't scare her.


	4. Birthday

**I'm taking liberties here, since we have no idea when Booth's birthday is, and I don't even know which teams went to the Super Bowl this year because I don't watch football. I hope you enjoy the new chapter, anyways!**

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Chapter 4—Birthday 

Brennan has never been one for giving or receiving gifts. She just never really saw the point. Especially for birthdays. Why did society require you to give someone a gift for being one year older? Especially because most adults didn't want to acknowledge they were getting older.

Even though she rarely, if ever, gave gifts, she knew exactly what to get Booth for his birthday at the end of January. Halfway into planning his present, she realized she needed Rebecca's help.

Dialing quickly, she listened to the phone ring as she anxiously tapped her fingers against her desk, not knowing exactly what to say. When Rebecca finally answered the phone, Brennan nervously explained what she was planning for Booth's birthday, and asked if she would consider letting Booth have Parker that weekend.

Surprisingly, Rebecca agreed, and Brennan let out a sigh of relief. Rebecca had been the one wildcard in her plan, but now that she had agreed, everything else should be easy sailing. Within minutes they had finalized the details for the weekend and hung up.

Brennan quickly finished his gift online, printed it, and placed it in an envelope. Grabbing her purse and coat, she left her office for the evening to head over to the FBI building to drag Booth out to dinner. Although she knew she really wouldn't have to do much dragging.

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To say he was surprised to see Brennan at the door of his office was an understatement. She rarely, if ever, came to the FBI building looking for him, and never in a nice dress. 

"Hey Bones, whatcha up to?" he asked, flashing her a smile as he stopped filling out paperwork.

"Not a lot, just taking you out to dinner, birthday boy," she replied, flashing him a charm smile of her own.

Startled, Booth looked at her questioningly. "Wait, you left work early to take me out to dinner for my birthday? And how did you know it was my birthday?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of remembering birthdays. And yes, I left early to invite you to dinner, unless of course you don't want to go," she said, teasing him a little.

"No, no," he replied quickly, jumping up out of his chair. "Let me just grab my coat and I'll be ready to go. Where are we going, by the way?"

"There's a new Italian restaurant over in West End I've been dying to try, so I got us reservations for 7pm."

"You mean **Laboratorio Del Galileo**? It's impossible to get reservations there, and especially less than 3 weeks in advance!" he was stunned she had gone to so much trouble for him, and if the rumors were true, it was one of the best Italian restaurants on the east coast, as well as one of the most expensive.

"You seem to forget that I am a best-selling novelist. And how do you know I haven't been planning this for weeks?" she replied playfully as she turned and walked out of his office, leaving him a moment to ponder her words before running after her.

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A few hours later, after one of the most amazing meals of their lives, they were enjoying a bottle of wine and a delicious tiramisu. During desert, Brennan reached into her bag and withdrew the envelope containing the card and gift she had picked out for him, slightly nervous now that the moment was finally here. She silently hoped he would like it as she handed it over to him, his eyebrows rising in surprise. 

"What is this, Bones?" he asked as he took the envelope, opening it slowly.

"It's the rest of your birthday present, Booth. Now open it," she dropped her gaze to the table, growing more nervous with each passing second.

"Bones, dinner was more than enough. You didn't need to do all of this…" he trailed off as he opened the card, reading it silently as a smile spread across his face. He looked up at her and observed her for a minute as she stared at the table. "Thank you, Temperance," he said simply, drawing her attention from whatever she was staring at, "the card is beautiful."

"Open the envelope," she said softly, her gaze dropping back to the table.

Amused by her nervous behavior, he slowly opened the envelope, wondering what could possibly make her so self-conscious around him. As he pulled out the folded papers, two tickets fell out of the envelope. Picking them up, he was stunned to see they were box seats for the Super Bowl the following weekend.

At his sharp intake of breath, Brennan looked up from the table, watching the amazement on his face. Opening the folded sheets of paper, he saw plane tickets, hotel room, and rental car information. She had thought of everything, he realized as he saw the name on the extra plane ticket. Parker Booth.

She saw his eyes light up when he read the name on the ticket, but they quickly clouded over when he realized Rebecca probably wouldn't let him have Parker for the weekend. Knowing what he was thinking, she quickly jumped in, "I already talked to Rebecca, and she agreed to let you take him to the game."

His eyes danced with happiness as he reached for her hand and gave it a gently squeeze. "This is too much, Temperance," he paused, trying to contain the emotion in his voice, "Thank you."

Needing to change the topic a little bit, he asked, "How on earth did you get these tickets? They've been sold out for months!"

She just looked at him with a smile. "My publisher gave them to me, but since I don't watch football, I figured I'd give them to you. And I know the Steelers are your favorite team, so I knew you'd love it."

Amazed once again by her thoughtfulness, he flashed his patented charm smile. "You are an amazing woman, Temperance Brennan. I'm proud to have you as my partner and friend." _But I want us to be something more_, he thought silently to himself, _One day, though, one day we'll be together. After all, everything happens eventually_


	5. Bad

**I'm not particularly fond of this chapter, but it needed to be written before I can move on to the next one. I've discovered I don't really like writing filler chapters, so hopefully there won't be too many in this fic. Now that I've ranted, I bring you another chapter.**

**This chapter has spoilers for 2x13 the Girl in the Gator. Some slight Sully bashing (my favorite sport!) that is basically Brennan's first impressions of him during the case.**

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Chapter 5—Bad

I could tell Booth was getting frustrated while he was trying to get details from the agent on the phone. Hell, I was getting frustrated by the music because I couldn't hear what Booth was saying and he was standing right next to me. I just wanted to know where our case was sending us, but that damn ice cream truck wouldn't turn down the music.

I never expected him to lose it, though. Up to that point in our partnership, I'd never seen him lose it over something as stupid as irritating music. Serial killers and murdered children, yes, but never anything as asinine as music.

But when he pulled out his gun, I didn't even have time to react before he took three shots at the clown head. Not that I would have known what to do even if I did have time. I stared at the head of the clown, completely stunned by his actions, while he finished his phone call, completely unaware of what he had just done.

"That was NOT good," I remember telling him, watching him as realization dawned over his features. He hadn't even thought about the consequences when he shot the clown, and now I have to suffer for it.

While he got to stay in DC to see a shrink, I had to fly alone down to Florida to meet a random agent who I was being forced to work with. It took Booth and me a long time to work well together, and after working comfortably alongside him for almost two years, I don't really want to work with anyone else. He finally respects the science of what we do, and he gets along well (for the most part) with Angela, Hodgins, and Zach.

Now they expect me to break in a new agent who doesn't care about his work for the FBI, who'd rather go look at a boat than find potential witnesses. I can't believe Booth did this to me! This Sully couldn't care less about finding who killed this girl. He's more interested in boats and Philly cheese-steak sandwiches.

I talked to Booth last night and he told me that Sully lost his partner last year, but I don't think that gives him a reason to disregard the importance of his work in pursuit of more leisurely activities. He can look at a boat on his own time, not while we're on a case and supposed to be finding witnesses. It's just unprofessional and irresponsible.

Booth better get cleared and back to work soon, because I can't make any promises that I won't drop kick Sully's ass, especially if he keeps disregarding the case and keeping me from proceeding with my work on the case.

I never thought I'd miss working with Booth as much as I do right now. I've grown so accustomed to his methods and mannerisms, and we work well together because of the understanding and friendship we've established over the years. I guess I'm just so used to him always being there that it seems weird when he's not. When did I ever become so dependent on someone's mere presence?

I feel like someone who has just had a leg amputated. For days, weeks even, it can seem as if the leg is still there, and you move assuming you'll be able to put your foot down. But without the leg, there's nothing to stop you from falling. With Booth, he was always there to balance my scientific rational. We balance each other, watch out for each other, and support each other. Without Booth, I feel like I'm missing something.

For the first time since my parents left, I've grown attached to someone, and it scares me. I know he promised never to leave me, but by shooting the clown and having to be evaluated by a shrink, in essence he left me. I mean, I know it's only for a few days, but what if the shrink decides he's not fit to return to the field? As much as I love it, I don't think I could keep working in the field without him.

My phone rings on the nightstand, startling me from my thoughts. I smile when I see the caller ID, and answer it, "Hey Booth."


	6. Haunted

**Quite a bit darker than the fluffiness this fic has been so far, but don't worry, the fluff will be back soon!**

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Chapter 6—Haunted

Seeley Booth was a haunted man. No matter how hard he tried to do the right thing, to move on from the things he had done years before, he was haunted by his demons. They found their way into his life in one way or another, threatening the people he loved, or even just recalling his nightmares. He had a good life for the most part, but every once in a while, out of the blue, his demons would rear their ugly faces.

It was just a regular Tuesday at work, Booth was at the Jeffersonian with the squints waiting for them to give him an ID on a victim who had been killed execution-style. While they worked, he paced, annoyed that Sully had tried to drag Brennan out to lunch in the middle of a case, which she blatantly refused. He hated that Sully tried to take his role of forcing her to eat during the day. He continued pacing, his mind wandering because he didn't have anything to do until they had an ID.

Finally, Brennan looked up at him. "We know who he is…" she trailed off, knowing this case was going to strike a little too close to home for him.

Seeing Brennan's hesitation, he stopped pacing, wondering what made her hesitate. "What's his name, Bones?"

Gesturing toward her office, she walked in the direction of her door, knowing he wouldn't want to hear who it was in front of the squints. Standing in her office, she looked up at him, holding his gaze, trying to make sure he knew she was there for him. "His name is Jack Langlois."

As the name registered in his mind, he swayed gently on his feet, trying to stay upright. She took three steps towards him, taking him by the arm and helping him sit down, kneeling in front of him trying to make eye-contact. "Booth, Seeley, I need to you look at me," she placed her hand on his cheek, turning his head so he was forced to look at her.

What she saw startled her. His usually warm, expressionate eyes were empty and cold. She knew she was looking at the soldier Booth; it nearly broke her heart to tell him that his spotter from the Army was dead. "Seeley," she said again, softer this time as she tried to reach him.

He blinked, staring at her but not seeing her. He had withdrawn completely as his demons overtook him, bring back flashes from Kosovo, him killing people, and his friends being killed around him. He and Jack had been lucky. They had made a perfect pair, both looking out for the other as if they were brothers.

"He…" Booth mumbled, hardly aware he was even talking, "he can't be dead. If he's dead, I should be dead."

"Seeley," she said again, trying as hard as she could to get through to him, "Seeley, I need you to listen to me. Please, Seeley…"

Her voice was pleading, begging him to come back to her, and it seemed to break him out of the trance he was currently in. "Bones," he whispered, blinking hard as tears filled his eyes.

Wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders, she drew him against her, holding onto him as he broke down. His face was buried against her neck, his shoulders shaking violently from the sobs that wracked through his body, his tears staining her silk blouse. She didn't care, as she just held him, trying to protect him from the world.

She knew his world was coming down around him, and she knew she could never leave him in this state. She held him until his sobs subsided and he fell asleep against her out of pure exhaustion. Gently pushing him back until he was lying on the couch, she covered him with a blanket and stepped out of her office, knowing she needed to call Cullen.

She dialed Cullen's number, quickly explaining the situation as vaguely as possible. She was relieved when he agreed to give Booth some time off, but let her and the squints stay on the case. She would get to the bottom of this case if it killed her, because she couldn't stand to see him so broken.

With the door open enough so that she could still see his sleeping form, she motioned for Angela, Zach, Hodgins and Cam to come up to talk to her. Once they all assembled, she looked at them, not sure where to start. "Booth is going to take a couple of days off. In the meantime, this case needs to be done with as quickly as possible. I don't want any of you to mention anything about it to Booth, no matter how much he begs, bribes, or threatens you, got it?" she said, knowing she was invading on Cam's authority, but not caring when it came to Booth.

Everyone nodded in acknowledgement, not knowing exactly what was going on, but all determined to close this case as soon as possible. They scattered quickly, silently going back to their individual stations. It was going to be a long couple of days spent in the lab trying to find the killer.

True to his word, Cullen had found the file on Jack Langlois and faxed it over immediately. By the time she was done talking to her colleagues, it was nearly done being printed out, and she eagerly reached for it, reading quickly as she sat in the chair next to Booth's sleeping body.

Meanwhile, Zach was running the bullet through the ballistics database, praying he would find a gun to match the bullet. He was in luck, as the bullet matched a .380 ACP that had just been found buried about a mile down river from where their victim's body had been discovered. Waving at Dr Brennan from his station, he printed out his report and took it up to her, knowing she would want to see it immediately.

Once again standing outside her office, keeping one eye on Booth's sleeping form, she scanned the report, pulling out her cell to call Cullen to have him send the gun to the lab. It was there within the hour, with the excuse that the FBI forensics lab was backlogged and hadn't gotten around to analyzing it. Zach set about dusting for finger prints and running them against the FBI database, which quickly narrowed down the results.

Taking the printed report to Brennan's office, he handed it to her, hearing her gasp when she saw the name on the report: Nemanja Radic. Her hands were shaking as she called Cullen, telling him to get a team out to pick up Radic. If she was right, he would be coming after Booth next.

There was nothing left to do but wait, so Brennan sat in her office with Booth, who woke up just as she was getting off the phone. When he asked, she had told him what they had found. His face paled when she told him the name of the killer, as she knew it would. She held him tightly against her as he cried anew, regret and guilt overflowing through his body.

For the next few hours he alternated between exhaustion-induced sleep, silent sobs, and getting the violent shakes as memories from the war ran through his mind. She was with him the whole time, holding him tightly when he cried, when he shook, and when he slept. At one point she had fallen into a restless sleep, her body halfway underneath his on the couch, their arms wrapped around the other's sleeping body and their legs entangled.

She was startled awake by something, or rather someone, in her office gasping loudly. Opening her eyes and blinking against the light, it barely registered that Sully was standing in her doorway with his mouth hanging open, no sound coming out. As she started to say something to him, her phone rang, which she grabbed quickly, hoping it was Cullen telling her they had caught the bastard.

Sully left while she was on the phone with Cullen, who told her that they had cornered the suspect, but he had chosen to kill himself rather than be arrested. She let out a deep sigh of relief, knowing it would be a while before Booth was okay again, but knowing he would eventually be himself again.

Waking him gently, she led him to the SUV and drove him home, crawling into bed with him and holding him when he asked her to stay. She could deal with Sully another time, but right now, her partner and best friend needed her.

His nightmares and demons had come back in full force, but he knew that she would be there to help him through them. As long as she was by his side, he would be okay again.


	7. Want

**This chapter probably needs a slightly higher rating, but it's more referenced than described, so I'm not going to change it. More fluffy goodness for you after the last chapter!**

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Chapter 7—Want

"Seeellleeyy," she moaned softly in her sleep, rolling on to her back. Waking up suddenly, she was panting, trying desperately to catch her breath. Still breathing heavily, she rubbed her fingers across her eyes, trying to clear her mind from the intensely graphic dream she had just experienced. Temperance Brennan had had sex dreams before, but none as vivid or breathtaking as the one she had just woken up from.

She looked over at Sully's sleeping body, blushing deeply as she thought about her dream, in which her partner had the starring role. She knew she was attracted to her partner, but he had drawn a line that they couldn't cross, so she had started seeing Sully. Over time, she had grown to like Sully, but she couldn't love him.

Dragging herself out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom to take a warm shower before Sully woke up. The details of the dream were still vivid in her mind as she guiltily indulged herself under the stream of hot water.

Thirty minutes later she exited the bathroom feeling relatively sated, dressed quickly and left for the lab, leaving Sully still sleeping soundly in the bedroom.

She was relieved to find she was the first one in the lab, and settled herself in her office to respond to emails and catch up on paperwork. Losing herself in her work, she was surprised when Angela came in, not having realized how much time had passed.

"Bren, sweetie. Don't tell me you were here all night, especially since you have a guy to keep you out of the lab now," Angela teased, looking her friend over for evidence she had indeed worked all night. Noticing she was wearing different clothes, she knew Brennan had at least gone home, but obviously hadn't stayed long.

"I went home last night, Ange, I just came in early because I couldn't sleep," Brennan replied, keeping her eyes focused on the computer monitor. She knew that if Angela looked at her she'd be able to tell something was up, but Brennan just didn't want to talk about the dream she'd had.

The only person she wanted to avoid more than Angela that morning was the man who walked through the door a moment later.

"Hiya, Bones!" he said in greeting, flashing her a smile. "We've got a case."

"Okay," she said, keeping her head down as she felt the blood rush to her face. Letting her hair fall in front of her face, she grabbed her kit, leaving her office without having once looked at him.

Looking at Angela, who was still sitting in her office, Booth wondered what was going on. "Is she alright?" he asked, beginning to worry about why she was avoiding him.

"I don't know. She said she came in early this morning because she couldn't sleep, but she hasn't made eye contact with anyone this morning and seems to be avoiding something," Angela was a little worried about her friend, but she figured Booth would be able to pry it out of her.

Booth had just realized how close to the lab doors she was, and he ran out of her office to catch up to her. Placing his hand in its usual place on the small of her back, he was surprised when she jumped. He was sure she had known he was right next to her, but maybe she just wasn't paying attention. Filing it away for later, he handed her the case file as they climbed into the SUV and headed off to the crime scene.

* * *

Hours later, as they were on their way back to the lab, Booth was more than a little worried about her. She still hadn't made eye contact with him or even looked at him throughout the entire time they were in the field, and it was making him anxious. In addition, every time he stood near her or touched her, however naturally, she jumped.

Pulling into the Wong Foo's parking lot, Booth swore he would find out what the problem was before he took her back to the lab.

"So Bones, is something up?" he asked as they sat down in their usual places at the bar.

"No, nothing's up, Booth. Everything is fine," she said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself rather than convince him. _I've got to get over the dream. I can't keep avoiding him, and I'm tired of looking at his feet when I talk to him. I want to see his face, his eyes. I don't want to jump every time he touches me, but every touch, not matter how innocent, reminds me of the dream._ Resigning herself to move passed the dream and make everything go back to normal, she looked at him for the first time that day, blushing deeply as they made eye contact.

He was startled when she suddenly looked up at him, catching his gaze, but what stunned him was the fact that she was blushing. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen her blush, usually when she was ashamed for breaking down around him. Now, though, he had no idea what was making her blush.

As they waited for Sid to bring their food out, she slowly became herself again, laughing at him, making him explain references, and just being comfortable around him. Pushing the worry out of his mind, he still wondered what had caused the awkwardness.

Just before leaving the restaurant, he asked her again what had caused her embarrassment earlier. Blushing again, she looked down and mumbled a reply.

"What was that, Bones?" he asked her teasingly, a huge grin on his face because he had heard her say something about a sex dream.

"Nothing, Booth. Now let's get back to the lab. We have a case to work on," she said, trying to will-away the blush on her cheeks as she walked to the SUV. _At least he knows, now, and I don't feel so awkward_, she thought, hoping he would just forget about it.

"So, was I any good?" he asked as they climbed into the car, the grin still on his face.

_He's never going to let me live this down_.


	8. Dedicated

**I'm not sure if I like this chapter or not, and I debated about trashing it altogether. Make sure you let me know what you think, whether you hated it or thought it was okay. Thanks to everyone who has been reading this fic, you guys are awesome!**

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Chapter 8—Dedicated

"Tempe!" Sully called, walking into her office, stopping short when he only saw Booth. "Where's Tempe?" he asked, confused. She had told him she couldn't make their date because she was staying late at work, but apparently she wasn't there.

"Hey Sully," Booth said, not lifting his gaze from the computer monitor. "She's down in storage digging out some bones from a case she had a few years ago. She thinks they may be related to the case we're working on."

"Oh, well, what are you doing?" he asked, still a little peeved that she had cancelled their date to work late with Booth.

"I'm running the M.O. through the database to find any other cases that could potentially be connected to the current one. She should be back any minute, providing she was actually able to find the file in that hell pit," spinning in her desk chair, Booth rolled over to the printer to grab the report before returning to the computer.

"Okay," Sully said, trying to calm himself down. It was just Booth, after all, even if he did have the hots for his partner. "I guess I'll just wait," he said, taking a seat on her couch.

15 minutes later, when she still hadn't come back, Booth grabbed his phone to call her. He was surprised to hear "Hot Blooded" playing out on the platform, and stood up quickly to leave her office.

"Bones! You were supposed to come get me when you came back up here! I've got 3 more potentially related cases," he yelled as he made his way down to the platform, smiling to see she already had the bones laid out on the table and was bent over examining them. Her dedication to her work was just one of the things he loved about her. Aware that Sully was following closely on his heels, Booth bounded up the stairs to the platform.

"Sorry Booth, I just got distracted by the bones…" she trailed off, still pouring over the remains, not noticing Sully was there.

"Tempe," Sully started, trying to contain his annoyance, "We need to talk. Now."

Startled by his voice, she looked up, "Sully! When did you get here? What are you doing here?"

"Tempe, let's go to your office," he said sternly, turning away from her and walking toward the stairs, expecting her to follow.

"I don't have time for this right now, Sully," she said, letting out an exasperated sigh. "We've got a serial killer on our hands, and I need to determine exactly how many of his victims we know about."

"Goddamn it, Tempe!" he cried, spinning on his heel and stalking towards her. "You've got time for your work. You've got time for Booth. You had time to take a book tour. You've even made time to see Parker! But you can't find even one evening for me? I'm your boyfriend!" his anger was spilling over as he glared at her, shooting dirty looks Booth's direction every few moments.

She just looked at him, not saying anything. Finally, she turned back to the remains, refusing to look at him any longer. She knew she wasn't giving him the time he wanted, but she gave him what she could. She refused to give up her work, or her time with Booth, for someone she wasn't sure was going to stick around. "I think you need to go, Sully," she said, her tone telling him he was dismissed.

Booth was stunned. He'd never seen Sully so angry before, but Sully's accusations were making his blood boil. When she had just turned back to her work, Booth prayed Sully would just leave. The last thing he needed tonight was an irate Bones. As it was, he was clenching his fists at his sides to keep himself from hitting Sully.

Shooting one last dirty glance at the pair, Sully turned and walked angrily off the platform, setting off the alarms as he went.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Booth leaned over to swipe his card to quiet the alarms. Settling himself at a computer, Booth continued his search for similar cases, this time searching the Jeffersonian's database. Pulling up three more potential victims, Booth looked over at Brennan, who was still working intently. "Hey, Bones, do you want me to go down to the storage room to get these three files?"

Looking up from her work for the first time, she was almost surprised to see Booth still there. "I'm going to have to come with you because you're card won't give you clearance, and you'll need help trying to carry three boxes back up here," she said, standing up and pulling off her gloves, stretching to get rid of the stiffness in her back.

Booth felt as if he had swallowed a ball of cotton as she stretched, her t-shirt riding up to show a creamy patch of her taut abdomen. Shaking the image from his mind, he led the way off the platform, Brennan following close on his heels.

Downstairs in the storage room, the searched for the files in silence. Brennan broke the comfortable silence, needing to address what had happened with Sully. "He's feeling neglected because I still put my work before him."

Booth looked up from the box he was moving, not saying anything, knowing she needed to talk without interruption.

"I mean, we've only been dating for four weeks, and he seems to think he needs to be first in my life, that I need to drop everything I'm doing to go off with him and his spontaneous decisions. I just like structure and schedule, you know that, Booth. But Sully, structure and schedule are not part of his life. Sometimes I wonder why we're even together…" she trailed off, her voice and body tense.

"Hey, Bones," Booth said softly, moving behind her, "he'll come around, he's just upset." Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gave her a gentle squeeze before beginning a slow massage. Her head fell forward, giving him access to the base of her neck, where he worked out the knots as gently as possible, although he knew it probably hurt.

She moaned softly as his fingers continued to knead and work her muscles until she was completely relaxed. Eventually he removed his hands from her shoulders and neck, and she felt the loss of contact almost immediately.

"Thanks, Booth," she whispered softly, stepping away from him and bending down to continue her search for the case file. She could deal with Sully in the morning, but for right now, she and Booth had a serial killer to catch.

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**AN: I wanted to ask your guys' opinion for a chapter, which I had originally planned to have here, but wound up moving when I woke up in the middle of the night and realized it could work somewhere else just as well. The prompt is "Cheese," and although I was originally planning to for them to go to a fondue party (hehe, random, I know), I realized it could also be a Mac N' Cheese chapter to follow up "Glowing Bones" and it would work well in the timeline of the story. I'm leaving this choice up to you guys, so tell me what you want to see!**


	9. Stranded

Chapter 9—Stranded

They were racing against the storm, trying to make it back to the small, country town in southwest Virginia where they were planning to stay for the night. About 20 miles outside of the town, the storm overtook them, the rain falling heavily, making it difficult to see the hood of the SUV and almost impossible to see anything in front of the car.

Booth slowed the vehicle to just above a crawl, straining to keep the SUV on the road as the rain continued to fall harder. By the time he saw the tree in the road, they were only a few feet away from it and didn't have time to stop. Hitting the breaks to slow their impact, the tires locked, sending them sliding off the side of the road and coming to rest in what Booth hoped was an open field.

Shaking slightly from the adrenaline running through his veins, he immediately looked over at his partner, letting out a sigh of relief when she looked back at him. "You okay there, Bones?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm okay. Are you okay?" she asked, breathing deeply, her fingers still clenching the arm rest.

Satisfied they were both okay, he placed his hand gently on hers, looking at her and noticing she was still shaken up. "I think we should just stay put, at least until the storm passes," he said, squinting hard to look out the windshield.

"That sounds like a good idea," she replied, calmed by his hand covering hers. "What do we do?" she asked, needing to stay busy while trying to ignore the warm feelings that were coursing through her body from where their hands met.

Pulling his hand away from hers, they were both disappointed at the loss of contact. To distract himself from the feelings, Booth turned off the ignition, and flipped on the interior lights before turning back to Brennan to answer her question. "I've got a deck of cards somewhere in the back, and we might as well get comfortable while we wait," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing into the back where he proceeded to dig out a deck of cards from a pocket and laid the middle seat flat. Finding some blankets from the far back of the SUV, he turned to see Brennan staring at him from the front seat.

Grinning, he couldn't help teasing her, "Are you going to join me back here, or are you just going to stare at me all day?"

Dropping her gaze from his, she carefully climbed over the seats, settling down cross-legged facing Booth, the cards sitting between them. "What do you want to play?" she wondered, not knowing too many card games.

"Do you know how to play speed?" he asked, shuffling the cards.

"I think I remember how to play…" she thought about it a moment, "Russ and I used to play all the time when we were younger."

He saw the frown cross her features when she thought about her brother. "Good, then get ready to lose," he said lightly, trying to distract her with competition. It worked.

"I don't think so, Booth. You're going down!" she countered, already engrossed in the competition between the two of them.

He dealt out the cards, quickly losing 17 games in a row. Pouting a little, he looked up from his most recent defeat. "How about Gin Rummy?" he asked, hoping she didn't know it, just so he could have a chance at beating her.

Smiling at him, she tried not to look too smug over her victories. "I don't think I know that one," she said, knowing he was trying to find some way to beat her.

He quickly explained the rules and dealt out the cards. They talked while they played, discussing ridiculous cases they had before they were partnered together, Parker's latest antics, Zach and Hodgins' latest antics (they were worse than children sometimes!), and Angela's art exhibit that was currently on display at a gallery in downtown, carefully avoiding anything with Sully, Cam, or anything serious.

As they played, Brennan was struck by how comfortable she was around Booth. She could play games and talk to him without thinking about it, not worried that he would judge her. Not once that evening did she even think about Sully, who was back in DC calling her every 5 minutes trying to make sure Booth was keeping his hands to himself.

Before they knew it, they were both yawning and too exhausted to play anymore. Looking out the windows, Booth saw the rain hadn't let up in the slightest. Sighing, he looked at his watch and put the cards away. "We should get some sleep. Hopefully by morning the storm will have passed and we can get back to town," he said, stretching as best he could in the cramped space.

Brennan nodded, exhaustion taking over her body. She removed her shoes and jacket, throwing them carelessly into the front seat, as she stretched out on the make-shift bed.

Booth followed suit, throwing his shoes into the front before taking off his tie and dress shirt and laying them carefully over the back of the seat. Looking at his pants, he shook his head, knowing he needed to keep them on if he was sleeping next to Brennan. He did pull off his belt, though, knowing how painful it would be to wake up with that belt-buckle against his stomach.

Draping a blanket over Brennan's already sleeping form, he settled down next to her, careful to leave as much space between their bodies as he could. As much as he wanted to, he didn't think she or Sully would appreciate him holding her while they slept.

Booth lay there, quickly falling asleep as the sound of rain continued to fall heavily onto the SUV.

* * *

He awoke the next morning, looking out the window to bright, sunny skies. Trying to move his arm to stretch, he realized there was a soft, warm mass draped across his body. Looking down at the sleeping face of Temperance Brennan, he shook he head, smiling about the fact that her body had found his during the night. He glanced at his watch, realizing he could go back to sleep for a few hours, content with Brennan using him as a pillow. 


	10. Walk

**This chapter immediately follows 2x15 "Bodies in the Book," so spoilers up to and including that episode. It's a little bit shorter than the previous chapters, but it met it's natural conclusion earlier than I expected it to. Also, I wanted to apologize to those of you who were wondering about the random stopping point in the previous chapter. I have a reason for ending it where I did, but you won't find out for a while. There will also be other chapters that end rather abruptly, so I apologize in advance.  
**

* * *

Chapter 10—Walk

Brennan pulled back from the kiss, looking into Sully's eyes. He had said she would learn how to trust and need other people, but the truth was she already knew how. He just wasn't a person she wanted to trust or need. He was purely there for recreation, which is not what she needed right now. "I'm going to catch up with Booth so we can finish the paperwork on this case, okay? I just want it to be done and gone so I don't have to think about it anymore," she said, pulling out of his arms.

"Okay," he said, watching her grab her things. "I'm going to head home then. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure," she answered distractedly, looking for the case file, barely noticing when he left.

"Looking for this?" Angela asked from the doorframe, holding the manila folder up for Brennan to see.

"That's it! Thanks, Ange, but I gotta go," she said in a hurry, grabbing the file and pulling the door shut as she rushed out of the lab, trying to catch Booth before he left. Making it down to the parking structure in record time, she slowed to a walk when she saw his SUV was still in its assigned parking space.

Approaching the vehicle from the driver side, she noticed Booth slumped over the steering wheel, and immediately panicked. Knocking on the window, she was almost frantic with worry.

He jumped at the sudden knocking on the window next to him, sitting up suddenly to look at her. Rolling his window down, he asked, "What are you trying to do, Bones? Scare me to death?"

Blushing sheepishly, she reached through the window to hit him lightly. "Don't do that to me! I'm coming down here to see if you'd already left, and I just see you slumped over the steering wheel! What am I supposed to think?"

Only catching the first part of what she'd said, he asked, "Why were you looking for me? What happened to Sully?"

"He went home," she explained vaguely. "And I was looking for you because I need to go for a walk and I knew you'd kill me if I went alone."

Realizing she didn't want to talk about Sully, Booth just nodded. "Ok," he said, rolling up the window and grabbing his jacket before climbing out of the SUV. "The gardens?" he asked, knowing the answer was probably yes, since it was their regular late-night walking route.

"Sounds good," she agreed, matching his stride as the walked back towards the Jeffersonian.

They entered the gardens through the lobby of the Medico-Legal lab, not really feeling like dealing with the squints. Walking at a leisurely pace, they existed in a comfortable silence. The full moon shone down on them, illuminating the blooming flowers and shrubs as they walked, the only sounds were the crickets and water flowing in the fountains.

He knew Brennan was having problems opening up to Sully, but he thought it was because she wasn't used to trusting people. He just wanted her to be happy, and it seemed like Sully made her happy. "You should really give Sully a chance, Bones, he really cares about you," he said, trying to help her even though it was the last thing he wanted.

She just nodded silently in response, stopping near the bench where they always stopped to sit. They both sat down in the near-darkness, Brennan cuddling up to Booth's side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

"Why are you pushing Sully on me?" she asked softly, finally voicing the question that had been bugging her since this case began, "You've never liked any guy I've been with."

"I'm not trying to push him on you, Bones, but I don't want you to push away a good guy like Sully just because you're afraid of opening up to people," he said, suppressing a sigh. "I just want you to be happy."

"It just takes time for me trust people, you should know that better than anyone, Booth," she responded with a sigh, settling her head comfortably on his shoulder, still looking out into the garden. "Before you, I hardly told anything to anyone, including Angela, who was my best friend."

Placing a kiss to the crown of her head, he just whispered, "I know, Bones. I know."


	11. Suspicious

**This chapter has spoilers up to and including 2x16 'The Boneless Bride in the River'. Remember: no bones, no Bones. Haha, that was one of my favorite lines, ever! Now that you know what episode this chapter ties to, you all know what this chapter means. But he's not leaving without me screwing with him a little bit more!**

* * *

Chapter 11—Suspicious

He knew that if Brennan asked Booth for his advice, Booth would tell her to stay. He didn't expect anything more from her partner, after all, he was in love with her. Not that he would ever admit it, of course.

He knew Angela had supported her going, but it was Booth who changed her mind. He was so sure she had been planning to sail off to the Caribbean with him, but it was Booth who stopped her. It was always Booth.

The man may have been his friend, once, but his jealousy over Booth's relationship with Brennan ended their friendship. Every time something happened, Brennan ran to Booth and Booth pretended to try to send her back. He never really did, though, he would just open his arms or his bed to her, welcoming her in.

Sully didn't doubt that Booth and Brennan had slept together. He was positive they had, he just lacked the physical evidence of actually finding them in bed together. When he had confronted Brennan about her sleeping around on him, she had denied it, getting very defensive in the process, which only served to confirm his suspicions.

She told him the reason she didn't open up to him and let him in was because she had trust issues, but he knew that was a lie. She was perfectly capable of being open and vulnerable with Booth. He knew how to comfort her when she needed it, and she knew how to comfort him when he needed her, and it usually ended with them sleeping together, holding each other close like lovers do. There was no room in that relationship for her boyfriend.

Throwing the last of his things into a box, he closed it unceremoniously, tossing it on top of the pile of things he was taking down to the marina in the morning. Seething with anger towards the man who had kept his girlfriend from sailing off with him, Sully grabbed his keys and he slipped on his shoes to go give Booth a piece of his mind.

Stalking into Wong Foo's, Sully made his way straight to the bar where Booth sat hunched over, nursing a glass of scotch. Luckily for Booth it was only his first, so he was still sober enough to react quickly when Sully approached him and pulled him off the bar stool, carefully avoiding Sully's swinging fist.

After a few minutes of struggling, with Sully yelling unintelligible things, Booth had managed to pin Sully's arms behind his back. "What the HELL is your problem?" he asked, his annoyance at being interrupted during his drinking binge shining in his eyes.

"You're my problem, you selfish son-of-a-bitch!" Sully yelled, glaring over his shoulder at the man who had his hands pinned behind his back.

Booth raised his eyebrows in surprise, wondering what the hell he could have done to get this kind of reaction from someone who, until recently, was his friend. "What the hell did I ever do to you, Sully?" he asked, anger replacing his surprise. "You start dating MY partner, try to take MY cases, and try to drag MY Bones off to the Caribbean with you for a whole year! And I've sat back, giving you advice, trying to help the two of you, telling her to go with you for FUCK'S SAKE, and you're accusing me of being SELFISH?" he asked, completely astounded by the accusations against him.

"You lying son-of-a-bitch! She was planning to go with me! Angela told her to go, she was excited! Then she talked to you, and now she's not going!" Sully was fighting against Booth's hold on him, wanting nothing more than to give the agent a good punch in the face.

"She's not going?" Booth asked, his anger fading quickly as he digested the information that she had chosen to stay. He was elated, but knew he couldn't let Sully see it.

"No, she's not. No thanks to you," he spat, giving one final tug and freeing himself from Booth's grip.

Another struggle ensued, which cumulated with Sid stepping in and holding Sully back.

"I told her to go, Sully. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy, and I thought you made her happy. Apparently I was wrong," Booth said, his anger returning.

"You just wanted her to be happy with you!" Sully exclaimed, his anger still boiling, "You pretended to help me and be my friend, but you were having sex with her and holding her and sharing a bed with her when you knew she should have been with me!"

Booth just stared at Sully, hardly able to comprehend what he was being accused with. "Yes, I comforted her, but only because you didn't know how. I told her to go to you, I told you what to do, but you didn't listen to me. The only time we shared a bed was the one time when I couldn't close my eyes without someone being there with me," he said, knowing they had agreed not to tell Sully about waking up together in the SUV during that storm in Virginia, "and I have NEVER had sex with her. I've never cheated on anyone, and I'm not going to sleep with a woman who is currently seeing another man!"

Sully's rage was beginning to simmer, but he continued to fight against Sid's hold on him. "Just stay away from her," he said in a low, menacing growl, his eyes filled with hatred. "I'll be back soon, and she'll still be mine."

Breaking out of Sid's grasp, he stomped towards the door and out into the night, as Booth returned to his stool and picked up his drink. Raising it to Sid, he toasted, "To good friends staying where they are happy." Lowering his glass, he took a long drink, no longer there to drown his sorrows in alcohol.


	12. Fingers

Chapter 12—Fingers

He laid there, eyes closed, as he tried to clear his mind, needing to forget about the case they had worked on that day. As he was drifting off, something brushed against his cheek.

The first touch was so soft he was sure he had imagined it. On the second touch, he could feel her fingers trace his jaw line, slowly tracing his lips, his nose, his eyes, running through his hair and down to his neck where they slowly explored every inch of his skin.

He didn't need to open his eyes to know whose fingers were on him. They were the fingers he spent a large part of his day watching obsessively as they gently ran over delicate bones, covered by latex gloves as they explored every surface of the bone, memorizing every detail.

Those fingers tenderly pulled his tie loose from his neck, slowly moving to undo the buttons of his dress shirt one by one. They gently pulled his tie from his body, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor, touching every piece of skin as it was exposed.

Pulling his tank over his head, her fingers explored his torso, tracing the outline of his well-defined muscles; gently, tenderly tracing the scars left behind from his childhood, from the war, from being shot and stabbed on the job, from the explosions of her refrigerator and the body of Caroline Epps. Taking in every inch of his body, learning his past, her fingers examined him.

They seemed to freeze just above the edge of his pants, and he knew what had stopped them. Her nimble fingers traced three circular patches of scar tissue, calculating the caliber that could have caused them. The touch was light, able to feel the healed ridges outlining the scars that sat on the right side of his abdomen, just above the pants line.

He almost groaned when her fingers removed themselves from his abdomen, suppressing it as they softly skimmed over the legs of his trousers. Untying the laces on his shoes, she removed them one by one, sliding his socks off as well. Her fingers explored his feet, rubbing them gently as she learned the scars there as well. The healed cuts and burns on the soles of his feet, the long, thin scar that disappeared into the leg of his trousers. She learned them all.

Removing her fingers once again, they moved to his belt, swiftly undoing the buckle and the button on his pants, sliding the zipper down before pulling them off his body, leaving him in his underwear as her probing fingers continued the exploration of his skin.

Moving back to his ankles, they softly traced the jagged line from his foot up the outside of his calf to his knee. Reaching his thigh, they traced over the dispersal of scar tissue, small portions of smooth skin randomly splashed across his leg. Finding the large patch of recently healed tissue on his inner thigh, the fingers slowed their exploration, softly tracing the still bruised and tender skin. They paused over the wound, as if contemplating; gently tracing soothing circles over the tissue.

After a few moments, they moved to his other leg, beginning at the ankle and gently, delicately, continuing their exploration. Pausing at his knee, they traced over the scar that ran diagonally across his kneecap, a wound from falling on a piece of glass as a child. The first time he had stitches. Continuing up his leg, she gently traced along the scars where skin had been removed for a graft. Large, shining patches of scar tissue covered his thigh, of which he was usually self-conscious, but he was comforted by her fingers. By seeing his scars, by feeling them, she was learning them, learning him, and accepting him, as well as his past. Her fingers stopped on his inner thigh, rubbing small circles as they danced over the silky skin, inching closer and closer to what he wanted her to take in her delicate fingers.

Removing her fingers completely from his body, she gently pushed against his side, urging him roll onto his front, which he did willingly, eyes still unopened.

Beginning in the hair at the base of his neck, her fingers examined his back, gently massaging and rubbing the muscles as the slipped lower and lower down his back. He knew she would stop when she reached the small of his back, and he was afraid she would ask. The scars were small and thin, as if made by a razor blade, delicate in their atrocity. "927108," forever etched into his skin, serving as a reminder of the days he spent believing his God had forsaken him. Her fingers slowly, calculatedly, traced over the numbers, knowing their meaning without asking; reading his scars as if they were words in a book.

Probing him to roll back over, she once again ran her long, nimble fingers down his cheek to his jaw line, stopping to trace her thumb over his full lips before removing her hand completely.

He had never been this intimate with anyone before. He had never let anyone see many of his scars, much less examine them with the intensity that she was. They were his secrets, his past. The things he never told anyone, the things he lied to himself to forget, the things that made him who his is. She knew him like no other person in the world did, his scars both inside and out, although there was still some she didn't know. He was a man of secrets.

When her fingers did not return to his body, he sat up suddenly, opening his eyes to take in his moonlit bedroom, the blankets and sheets from his bed kicked onto the floor, his clothes from the day neatly folded on the chair as always, and his glowing alarm clock, telling him that only 20 minutes had passed since he'd last looked at it.

* * *

**This AN is just to clear up confusion about the significance of the number "927108." The number itself doesn't have any particular significance. Some cultures will brand the number into the skin for how many days the POW was held captive. Obviously this can't be the case with Booth. Other societies, as what happened during the Holocaust, brand a prisoner with a number to take away their identity. This is what happened in Booth's case. This number, as well as the sheer number of scars will be elaborated on in a much later chapter, so keep reading because I will come back to this topic on more than one occasion.**


	13. Swear

**There were a lot of mixed reviews about the last chapter, which I was kind of surprised by, but it helps me to grow as a writer, so thank you all for your comments. Okay onto this chapter. Courtroom scenes are not my forte, but here's my attempt at it, however badly I may fail.**

* * *

Chapter 13—Swear

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" he asked, her hand on the Bible he was holding.

"I do," she responded, looking straight ahead while she was sworn in.

"You may proceed," the judge motioned to Brennan's favorite prosecutor, Caroline Julian, who approached her, standing off to the side of the stand, facing the jury.

"Dr. Brennan," she began, "would you please explain to the jury exactly what it is you do?"

"I am a forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian Institute. When a set of remains is too decomposed or otherwise compromised to identify it in conventional ways, the case is sent to me to identify. I work with my partner, Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI to identify the victim and find the truth behind their death," she stopped, waiting for the next question.

The next few hours passed as a pretty standard trial, the only part that was slightly out of the ordinary was the defense requesting the option of recalling Dr. Brennan at a later time, which the judge granted.

Knowing she would probably be recalled, she wasn't surprised when they called her after Booth gave his testimony. This case had been rough on Booth, and knew the defense would question her about Booth's involvement on the case. Taking a deep breath to prepare herself, she approached the stand once again.

No matter how long she had given herself to prepare herself, she still would have been caught off-guard by the defense attorney's first question. "Would you please explain your relationship to Agent Booth?"

Slightly stunned, Brennan was relieved when Caroline jumped in to save her from answering, "I object! That line of questioning has no basis for this case."

The judge looked down, observing the two lawyers who were shooting daggers at each other. "I have to agree with Ms. Julian, counselor. What basis do you have to open this line of questioning?"

"Please, Your Honor, I do have a point to my question. If you would just allow me to proceed…" he had trailed off, trying to show subordinancy.

"Alright, counselor," the judge motioned to the defense attorney, "make your point and move on."

"Dr. Brennan," he began again, slightly rephrasing his question, "would you say your relationship with Agent Booth goes beyond the professional?"

Even after having time to compose her answer, she wasn't sure where the line of questioning was going, and that made her slightly unsure of her answers. "Agent Booth and I are partners, as well as friends, which allows us to work well together."

"Dr. Brennan," the attorney began again, looking directly at her this time, "are you and Agent Booth involved romantically?"

"I object!" Caroline jumped up, enraged at seeing where the line of questioning was going and refusing to let Brennan's objectivity be questioned.

"Sit down Ms. Julian," the judge said, turning his attention towards Brennan, "Dr. Brennan, please answer the question."

Stunned the judge was allowing the question, she looked toward Caroline for help, catching Booth's gaze who was right behind her. Caroline just gave her a tight smile, motioning for her to proceed. "Agent Booth and I are not involved beyond our friendship, and I am offended you would allude to it," Brennan finally answered, understanding where the line of questioning was going.

"Is it not true that you are regularly seen out alone with Agent Booth?"

"It is not uncommon to go out with coworkers after a long day, counselor. We are quite frequently joined by my colleagues as well," she responded, trying to turn the question back on him.

He obviously was not expecting it, which worked in Brennan's favor. He quickly changed his line of questioning to give him time to think. "Agent Booth has been convinced of the defendant's guilt for a number of years, has he not, Dr. Brennan?"

"I object!" Caroline jumped in once again, irate over the free reign the judge was allowing the defense attorney.

"Sustained," the judge declared. "Counselors please approach the bench," he paused, giving them time to walk forward. "Counselor, you cannot ask a witness to divulge the thoughts of another witness. You must ask the witness in question, which you can no longer do since you already cross-examined him," the judge explained, looking down at the defense attorney who was trying to act ignorant.

"I apologize, Your Honor, it won't happen again," he responded, nodding his head in assurance.

"Dismissed. Now let's continue with the trial please," he finished, sending the attorneys back to their seats with a wave of his hand.

"Dr. Brennan," the attorney started again, "have you ever altered your findings to help Agent Booth arrest a suspect he already believed to be guilty?"

"Objection!" Caroline yelled once again, "He is questioning the objectivity of my technical witness!"

"Sustained. Mr. Jones' last question will be stricken from the record," the judged informed the court reporter and the members of the jury. "Counselor, you are on thin ice," the judge shot a glare at the defense attorney, wondering whether or not to let him proceed.

Looking up at the judge, the attorney nodded in acknowledgement. "The defense rests," he said, walking back to his seat.

* * *

Brennan paced out in the hall, her anger seething. She couldn't believe what the defense lawyer had insinuated with his questioning. He had questioned her ethics, as well as her professional objectivity, and it took all her self control not to hit him as hard as she could.

What she didn't realize was Booth was doing the same thing where he sat, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He was angry that the attorney had suggested he had arrested the suspect just because he had a personal grudge against the man, but he was even more infuriated at what he had suggested about Brennan.

Finally the jury reached their verdict and the pair was called back into the courtroom. They sat silently next to each other in the gallery with their fingers entwined, the simple touch calming their rage as well as their nerves.

"We, the jury, find the defendant… guilty," the foreman read, handing their verdict back to the bailiff as Brennan and Booth let out a tense breath.

Letting go of the other's hand, they left quickly, intent on getting as far away from the courtroom as they possibly could.


	14. Strong

**Sorry for not updating yesterday! I got distracted watching Firefly. But I have a new chapter for you today, and hopefully there will be another one later tonight!**

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Chapter 14—Strong 

She had always known he was strong, one look at the man could tell her that. She had seen him use that strength in fights, saving her, dancing, and moving refrigerators and things at work, but she had never had the opportunity to watch him use his strength.

Today, though, Angela had managed to get everyone, Booth and Brennan included, to help her move her things out of her apartment and into Hodgins' estate. Well, some of her things, since they were donating the bed and couch to charity.

The men were currently struggling to get the couch through her tiny front door, Hodgins and Zach going backwards as Booth held the other end, trying to direct them which way to turn. "Tell me again why you didn't hire movers?" Booth bellowed at Hodgins, breathing hard as he gave the couch another push before it got caught on the doorframe for the hundredth time.

Hodgins mumbled something out in the hallway, but neither of the women were listening to him as they finished packing boxes in the living room. Well, tried to finish. Brennan was slightly distracted watching Booth's body glistening with sweat, his muscular arms straining under the weight of the couch.

Her gaze was fixed on a single drop of sweat that had formed near his temple, following its trail as it slid down the side of his face and neck before disappearing under his white muscle shirt. Her gaze fell to his arms, watching the muscles ripple beneath his velvety skin as he tipped the couch, readjusting his grip on it. Holding it at a new angle, she watched silently as he pushed against it with his hips, finally working it out through the doorframe and into the hallway.

As soon as he was out of sight she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, panting as she tried to get enough oxygen back to her brain to clear out the image of his sweaty body pinning hers against the wall.

"You okay there, Bren?" Angela asked, a smile gracing her lips as she watched her friend trying to catch her breath.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she said once she was breathing evenly again. "Why didn't Hodgins hire movers to do this for you?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the mental images that were assaulting her mind.

"Because he wanted to show me how manly he is. Although, if that was what he was trying to do he shouldn't have asked Booth to help," Angela said, trying to catch Brennan off-guard.

"Uh huh," she replied off-handedly, causing Angela to grin. They continued to pack the boxes, piling them near the door as they were filled.

Within minutes the guys were back, grabbing boxes and hauling them down to the waiting truck. Every time Booth came back, Brennan would pause in her work, watching his well-toned arms as he lifted boxes and furniture.

As she packed, she thought about Booth. She had never been particularly fascinated or turned-on by a man's arms, but she had never experienced arms like his. They were strong, yes. But she also knew they were gentle and safe. When she had found her mother's body, when her family had left, when Sully sailed away, when she was scared or alone, his arms were the only place she wanted to be.

They held her up, supporting her when her strength had run out. When she didn't know who she was, he held her in his arms, telling her that he knew who she was. And it was the truth. She was lost between Joy Keenan and Temperance Brennan, and yet he had held her and called her 'Bones.' Bones was someone she understood, she knew who she was with him, in his arms.

When people left her, he was always there with open arms. Her biological family may have left her, again, but he changed her idea about family. "There's more than one type of family," he had said softly, holding her gaze as her eyes had filled with tears. When she couldn't believe, he believed for her. He believed she was part of his family, part of the squints' family. When Sully left, he had been there, an arm wrapped around her shoulder to tell her she's not alone. She couldn't help but trust what he said when he held her, that he would never leave her. She remembered the way he had held her both nights, keeping her close to his body. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, and she knew she would never be alone as long as he was there.

She remembered the feeling when he had grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the ground after the Gravedigger incident. And when he had saved her from Kenton. He had held her close; his heartbeat telling her she was still alive. The adrenaline had long since run out, and she was about to give up, but he had come like she knew he would. He was always there to protect her and save her.

"Earth to Bones," he said, waving his hand in front of her face as his voice drew her from her thoughts.

"Hmmm?" she asked, slightly dazed as she realized they were nearly done in the apartment.

"We're almost done here, so we were going to go over to Wong Foo's in a few minutes. Hodgins is buying," he told her, wondering what she had been so spaced out over.

"Ok," she responded before realizing she didn't have her car, "Can I ride with you? I left my car at the lab when Angela dragged me over here this morning."

"Of course," he said, grabbing the box she had just finished packing. "We'll meet you over there, Hodgins!" he shouted toward the back bedroom where the rest of the squints were packing up the last few things.

"OK!" came the response, "We're right behind you."

Picking up the tape and cleaning supplies left on the floor, she followed Booth out of the apartment and downstairs, sticking them in the moving truck before following Booth across the street to his SUV.

"Do you mind if we swing by my apartment so I can change?" he asked a few minutes later, pulling away from Angela's apartment.

"No problem," she responded, staring out the window as the streets passed. Surprisingly she had had a lot of fun today, helping her friend move. Between the guys wanting to kill each other, laughing with Angela as they packed, and even with her thoughts straying near the end of the day, she had enjoyed herself and was looking forward to dinner with her family.


	15. Cheese

**The Mac N' Cheese chapter I know you've all been waiting for! Yay! Which means spoilers up to and including 2x21 Glowing Bones in the Old Stone House. And now that I've watched that clip about 20 times, I've come to the conclusion that it is in my top 5 favorite scenes of any TV show, EVER. **

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Chapter 15—Cheese

After they had finished eating, and Booth had finished the dishes, they moved into the living room with their drinks, sinking into their normal places on the couch. Once comfortable they talked for a while about Parker's t-ball team, the new wing going in at the Jeffersonian, and all manner of other topics until the fell into a comfortable silence.

"You know you really didn't need to make me dinner, Bones," he said softly, breaking the silence.

"I know, but I didn't want to make it just for myself. And I know how much you love Mac N' Cheese, so I figured I'd invite you over," she responded, slowly swishing her wine around in the glass.

"It was delicious, Bones. Thank you for inviting me," he said completely sincerely as he watched her.

She looked up, as if she could feel his eyes on her. "It wasn't a big deal," she responded, starting to brush it off until she looked at his face, "but you're welcome," she added.

Setting down his glass, Booth stood up and turned to Brennan. "Now I've got a surprise for you, but I need you to go get your laptop and charger," he said, walking towards his jacket which was hanging in the front entryway.

Giving him a questioning look, she stood and walked toward her office to get the items he had asked for.

As she came back into the living room, she saw him standing there with a couple of DVDs in his hands, trying to decide which one to watch. She set the computer on the coffee table and walked over to him to see what he had brought. "What are we going to watch?

He handed over the four DVDs, "I don't know. You choose," he said, walking back to the couch, turned on her computer, and plugged it in.

Following him back to the couch, she sat down in her favorite spot. "I've never heard of any of these," she said, trying to choose. Looking down in her lap, she debated over the four DVDs: _The Sixth Sense_, _Crash_, _Miracle_, and _The Guardian_.

"They're all pretty good," he said, sitting next to her and looking at them, "but no matter which one we watch, I just want you to watch it. Don't analyze it, ok?"

"Alright," she hesitantly agreed, handing him the DVD she had randomly chosen.

He took the other three from her hand and set them on the table, his grin telling her she was going to have problems not analyzing the movie she had chosen. He put the DVD in the computer and loaded it, realizing he wasn't going to be able to sit in his usual spot if he wanted to see the screen. Still sitting next to her, he got comfortable as the opening scene of _The Sixth Sense_ began playing.

As the movie progressed, he could tell Brennan was struggling more and more not to analyze, and he was struggling more and more to get comfortable. Finally he gave up and lay down on his back, his legs hanging over the side of the couch. "Damn," he swore softly, not able to see the screen from the angle he was laying.

"Move up," she said, pulling gently on his shoulder to show him what she meant. He shifted closer to her until he could clearly see the screen, his head winding up in her lap.

The movie continued, but Booth wasn't watching it. His mind was much more occupied by Brennan's fingers which were absently stroking his hair. He tried not to think about it, but her touch was so soft, almost not there. He doubted she even realized he was doing it.

As the movie came to an end, Brennan realized she had been playing with his hair and abruptly pulled her hand back. Booth took this as his cue to sit up and then busied himself with taking out the DVD.

"Want to watch another one?" Brennan asked, looking at the clock and realizing it was still early. She was fighting the urge to tear apart the movie, but figured watching another one would serve as a distraction.

He smiled, knowing her inner turmoil over the movie. "Sure," he said, not quite ready to leave. "How about we watch _Miracle_?" he asked, not really in the mood for a heavy movie tonight, "It's about the American National Hockey team in 1980."

"Okay," she nodded, "I like hockey."

Stunned, Booth stopped as he was inserting the DVD. "Really?" he asked, not sure if he had heard her wrong.

"Yes, Booth. I grew up in Ohio. It's a big thing out there. Why are you surprised?" she wondered.

"I just never pinned you as a sports fan, Bones. Any sport," he resumed turning on the DVD, this time turning the computer a little towards his favorite spot.

"I haven't watched it in a long time," she said, trying to keep down the memories of watching and going to games with her father and brother. "Hey! Now I can't see it!" she leaned forward, trying to turn the laptop back towards her.

Blocking her hands, Booth smiled at her, "Nope, it's my turn. You have to move over to watch this one." He was turned almost sideways, his back resting where the back of the couch met the arm, with one leg on the couch.

"Where am I supposed to sit, then?" she asked, one eyebrow raised as she gestured to his being sprawled out on the couch.

In response, he just shifted his leg further against the back of the couch to make space for her to lean against him.

"Fine," she said, settling back against this broad chest, comfortable as one of his arms wrapped itself around her waist. Turning to watch the movie, she realized just how comfortable she was with him tonight, curled up on the couch watching movies.

As the movie wore on she could feel herself growing more and more sleepy, until she finally gave in, her head lying comfortably on his shoulder.

He just smiled, waiting a few minutes before he turned the movie off and gently shifted her body off of his so he could stand and pick her up. Carrying her back to her bedroom, he gently laid her on the bed, removing her shoes and necklace. He pulled the covers to her waist, bending down to kiss her softly on the forehead as he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Once back in the living room he turned off her computer and unplugged it, put away their glasses and picked up a couple of things. Finally he scribbled a note and left it on top of her computer before putting on his shoes and slipping out the front door, being sure to engage the alarm as he locked the front door behind him.


	16. Crawl

Chapter 16—Crawl

"God, Bones," he let out an exasperated sigh, stopping for the third time in ten minutes.

"Keep moving, Booth. We should be almost there," she replied, stopping a few feet in front of him and waiting for him to start moving again.

"I'm just a little bigger than you, Bones. It's a tighter squeeze to get through," he sighed again, ducking his head as he resumed his slow crawl through the tunnel.

She started moving when she heard his scuffling, unable to look back at him because the tunnel was getting smaller the further they went. "Hey Booth, the tunnel gets a little tighter right before it opens up, but you should be able to get through."

"Should? If I get stuck down here I'm never speaking to you again," he muttered, seeing what she meant by the tunnel getting smaller as he tried to squeeze through. A few feet into the smaller tunnel, he felt himself get stuck.

Looking up ahead of him, his voice caught in his throat. _Damn, she's got a nice ass,_ he thought, amazed he had never noticed before. Well, hadn't noticed to the extent he was noticing now.

She was crawling on her hands and knees, her butt at perfect eye level for him to stare. Even with her coveralls he could see that it was perfectly rounded and wonderful to look at. He'd never been much of an ass guy, but he was amazed by her entire body, ass included. He watched her move, the way her legs met her butt as she crawled. _I'm not supposed to be having these thoughts, but damn! We crossed that line a long time ago, and I'm not going back. _He was so comfortable watching her he had almost forgotten he was stuck in a tunnel. And he definitely hadn't realized she had stopped to wait for him.

She had stopped when she heard his scuffling come to a sudden halt. Still unable to look back at him, she wondered why he hadn't said anything since he stopped. "Hey Booth, you alive back there?" she teased, hoping he was able to get through.

"Um, yeah," he said hesitantly, trying to shake the thoughts and images from his mind. "I'm a little stuck back here."

"Ok, um, hold on," she said, trying to think of how she was going to help him get through. "I can see the end of the tunnel, so I'm going to go turn around. I'll be right back," she said, moving quickly down the remainder of the tunnel.

Within minutes she was back, facing him this time. "You need to drop your shoulders, Booth," she said, seeing that he was stuck because of his broad shoulders. "It's going to hurt for a few minutes, but you've only got about 15 feet to go."

"Uh huh," he said, trying to drop his shoulders, but realizing he was still stuck.

"Like this," she said, reaching out and pushing down on the top of his arm, helping him get loose.

Slowly he moved toward her as she kept her hand on his shoulder to keep his arms down. Crawling backwards with one hand, she eventually helped him out of the tunnel and into an area where they could stand up again.

Without looking at how dirty his coveralls were, he stretched out his back and shoulders, wincing slightly and knowing he was going to be sore later that night. He followed her down the wider tunnel, glad that he was able to walk rather than crawl; even if he did lose his prime vantage point of her body.

They found the body within minutes, and Brennan set to work collecting the remains and samples into a bag. Booth hovered as she worked, taking notes as she made her initial observations. She collected everything quickly, placing it into the bag and packing up her kit.

She gestured to the bag, each of them picking up an end, with Booth also grabbing her kit, and made their way back to the tunnel they had come from. Setting down the bag, they both looked down the tunnel, debating the easiest way to get everything back in one piece, especially the remains.

"I guess one of us with go first with the kit, and the other will go through backwards, pulling the bag," she finally said, silently deciding this was the most inaccessible crime scene yet.

"Do you want me to go first?" he asked, not sure if he would be able to get through going backwards.

"Yeah, that is probably best," she said, kneeling down and pulling the bag closer to the tunnel entrance.

Booth looked down the tunnel again, pausing before he went in and looked up at Brennan. "You're sure there's no other way to get out of here?" he asked, not very happy about having to go back into the tiny tunnel.

"This is the only way out, Booth, so get going. I'd like to get out of her sometime today," she said, pushing down his shoulders and urging him toward the entrance. "And remember to keep your shoulders down. I won't be able to help you if you get stuck this time."

"Uh huh," he muttered as he started down the tunnel, trying to keep his shoulders down.

She watched him go, enjoying the view of his body as he crawled. "Screw this," she heard him curse, and she knew he got caught again.

He backed up a few inches then dropped to his belly, pulling himself along through the tunnel with his elbows while pushing the kit ahead of him. "You coming?" he asked over his shoulder to Brennan, turning partially around to see her.

"Yep, I'm coming," she said, dropping to her knees and crawling backwards into the tunnel dragging along the body bag behind her.

"I officially hate my job sometimes," Booth grumbled, his elbows starting to hurt from the metal tunnel. Stopping to move back to his hands and knees, he continued on his way.

"I don't necessarily love it right now either, Booth," she responded, moving backwards, hoping they were almost out. She was starting to get a little claustrophobic in the tight tunnel.

"I can see the end, Bones," he said, his excitement evident in his voice.

"Oh thank god," she said softly, letting out a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stay in the tunnel. She felt it open up as Booth climbed out of the tunnel and into the main room where there were still agents and the forensic team milling about.

He turned back to the tunnel, helping her climb out and leaving the body bag for the forensics crew to take back to the lab. Thankful he had gotten statements before crawling through the tunnel to retrieve the remains, they left, wanting to get back to clean air of the lab. Climbing out of the sewer and onto the street, they both quickly shed their coveralls and boots, breathing the fresh air.

Twenty minutes later they were back at the Jeffersonian waiting for the body to arrive. Stretching his shoulder, Booth winced in pain.

Brennan, having noticed his pain, watched him stretch gingerly, trying not to move his shoulder too much. "Sit on the couch," she told him, sitting down behind him and turning him away from her.

"Why, Bones? We have work to do as soon as the body gets here," he protested lightly.

"You're in pain, so stop moving, would you?" she demanded, pulling his jacket off. Placing her hands back on his shoulders, she carefully massaged the sore muscles, working out the knots and tightness that had built up in the tunnels.

"God, Bones, that's amazing," he almost moaned, dropping his head forward as she worked along his lower neck. "Where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked when she had removed her hands and stood up.

"I took a class in college," she responded off-handedly, spying the remains arriving. "The body is here," she told him, leaving her office quickly for the platform.

Standing up, he rolled his shoulders a few times, much happier to have the pain gone. "Thanks, Bones," he said to the empty room, heading out to see what she could tell him in better lighting.


	17. Honor

**Basically growing up on the Marine base, Zach's predicament in the season finale hit really close to home. This chapter is for my boys who are overseas right now, and for those who are shipping out in the coming weeks. I love you all, and I pray for your safety and quick return.**

**This chapter follows later in the evening after the season finale, 2x22 Stargazer in a Puddle. So spoilers for all episodes! And hey, look! The other squints exist!  
**

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Chapter 17—Honor

Much later, after everyone had gone home after the reception, Booth sat in his living room, staring at the letter in his hands. He had lost count of how many times he had read it, but he was still having trouble processing the information.

_They can't send Zach to Iraq,_ he thought. _Have they even seen him? He'll die over there. No, no, stop that thought right there. He'll be fine. He'll be home soon._ Even saying it over and over didn't help reassure him.

Looking at the clock, and then one last glance at the letter, he stuck it in his pocket, grabbed his keys and headed out the door. 15 minutes later he arrived at Hodgins' estate, telling the cab driver at the gate to go away. Pulling up in front of the garage, he jumped out, taking the stairs two at a time. Just as he reached the top, the door opened to reveal Zach dressed in fatigues, carrying a duffel bag.

"Booth, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised to see the agent outside his front door.

"I figured you'd need a ride tonight," he said, unsure of why exactly he was there.

"I called a cab," Zach replied simply, trying to keep his voice from cracking in nervousness.

"The cab can't get onto the base. Let's go," he said, turning and walking back down the stairs, Zach close on his heels.

"Oh," Zach said softly, following Booth to the car.

They drove in silence toward Fort Belvoir, neither sure of what to say to the other. "Thank you," Zach said finally.

As they neared the base, Booth glanced at the clock and noticed they'd made really good time. Pulling off the highway a few exits early, they went through a drive-in Starbucks to get coffee. Pulling out of the parking lot, he thought for a minute, knowing he needed to talk to Zach before he left.

Zach looked at him questioningly, nervousness and fear shining in his eyes.

"You're going to see a lot of bad things over there, Zach," he said, taking a deep breath. "A lot worse than anything you've ever seen here."

Zach just nodded, taking in everything Booth was telling him. The agent had never talked to him this much, and he knew whatever he was saying was important.

"Write home as often as you can, and write to everyone at the lab. Their return letters are going to be the only thing that will get you through this. Believe me, I know," his voice caught as he thought back to when he stopped writing home, and how lost he was when the letters stopped coming for him.

They pulled up to the base in silence, Booth's badge getting them waved right through. The pulled into a parking alongside the vehicles of people who were sending loved ones off.

Climbing out of the car, they stood awkwardly, neither looking at each other. They weren't quite ready to admit this could be the last time they saw each other.

Booth looked around at the young men and women dressed to go, and was reminded of his days in the army. _They're just kids… they're too young to see this. Zach, he's a scientist for god's sake. He's not supposed to be out there in that mess. He's supposed to be safe and protected in his lab here._ For the first time he was struck with how protective of the kid he was. _As annoying as he can be, I owe the kid my job, _he thought, _and he's one of my squints. I'm supposed to protect him._

As one of the lieutenants called for everyone to say their last goodbyes, Zach turned to Booth, praying that he would see the agent again one day soon. Stretching out one hand, Booth shook it for a moment before pulling him into a brief hug.

Pulling back from the hug, Booth placed a hand on Zach's shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. "Be safe over their, man. I'll be praying for you," he said, still in shock the young doctor was going into the war zone.

Zach just nodded, trying to put on a brave face, although he knew his eyes were showing his terror. "I have 2 months of training in Germany before I get shipped to Iraq. I should be home by February," he said, hoping it was true.

Booth sincerely hoped so too. "Give us a call before you ship out, okay?" he masked his demand as a question, knowing the kid was going to hear enough orders in the coming months.

"Of course. You're going to tell everyone, right?" he asked, thankful Booth would be there to break it to the lab.

"Yes. I'm actually going to get them together when I get back to the city. Before Angela and Hodgins leave in the morning."

"Thank you," he said softly, turning to go.

As he watched Zach walk away, Booth was struck by his utter helplessness in the situation. "Zach!" he called out, hoping the scientist would hear him. He did, and turned to look at Booth. "I'll see you soon, okay?" Booth knew he was pleading a little, but the kid had grown on him, and he didn't want anything to happen.

"I'll see you soon, Agent Booth," Zach replied, turning away for the last time and walking into the building to check in.

* * *

As Booth took the long way back to the city, he called Hodgins, Bones, and Cam, telling them to meet him at the lab at 11:00. He spent the rest of the drive contemplating what he was going to say to them. By the time he got back to the city it was nearly time to meet them, and he still hadn't figured out what to say.

They collected in the lounge above the main floor of the lab, all looking as if they'd rather be somewhere else. Booth was the last to arrive, and as he entered, he looked at their questioning faces, unsure of where to begin.

"What is it, Booth?" Hodgins demanded, slightly angry his evening with Angela had been interrupted.

Booth paced along the walk way, feeling four sets of eyes following his movements. After a few minutes he sat down next to Brennan, trying to compose himself to tell them what had happened. His face was in his hands as he thought about how to tell them that their favorite new scientist was gone and may never come back.

Brennan watched him pace and then sit, knowing he was agitated about something, but not able to help unless she knew what it was. "Where's Zach?" she asked suddenly, looking around.

"Booth said he was taking care of it," Angela replied, looking at Booth for an answer.

Sighing loudly, Booth looked up, knowing it was up to him to explain. "I just dropped Zach off," he started softly, not meeting anyone's gaze. He stared at the table instead.

"Where'd you drop him off?" Angela asked, wondering what was going on.

Booth thought for a minute, not quite ready to tell them where Zach was going. Changing the subject, he tried to explain, "Honor and duty are an important part of a man's life. Zach was raised believing in honor and duty, and fulfilling his duty when he was called on to do it."  
He knew he was being cryptic, but he didn't know how to come out and say it.

"Where is Zach?" Hodgins asked, determined to get a straight answer out of the agent who seemed to be dancing around the topic.

Glancing at his watch, Booth looked up, making eye contact for the first time since he'd arrived. "Zach is fulfilling his duty, and he believes it is an honor to do so."

Brennan's hand found its way to his knee, squeezing it reassuringly as he tried to continue.

"He's on a plane bound for Germany right now," he stated simply, hoping he wouldn't have to explain any more than that. Actually having to say where he was going made it true, and he wasn't ready to face that truth.

"What is he doing in Germany?" Cam spoke up for the first time. "He didn't tell me he was going on vacation."

Booth turned his attention from Hodgins to Cam, placing his hand over Brennan's and squeezing it. "He isn't going to Germany for vacation. It's the reason he couldn't be your best man, Jack," he explained, turning his attention back to Hodgins.

"Why is Zach in Germany, Booth?" Angela asked, her voice shaking as she started to understand. If Booth was skating around the topic, it wasn't good.

"He's in training," he responded softly, dropping his gaze back to the table as Brennan intertwined their fingers, holding his hand tightly.

"What is he in training for?" Hodgins asked, afraid of the answer.

Taking a deep breath, Booth knew he couldn't avoid the truth any longer. "He's going to Iraq," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, although it seemed to echo around them.

Brennan's grip on his hand tightened at his words, and turned to look at her for the first time. Her eyes were full of tears she was fighting to keep down. He pulled her to him, tears coming to his own eyes as he thought again of Zach's naiveté of the world being shattered.

Looking around, he saw Hodgins holding Angela, who was crying softly. Cam stood silently and walked to her office, leaving the others on the platform.

"Is…" Angela took a deep breath, trying to speak. "Is he going to be alright, Booth?" she asked, her voice filled with sorrow.

"I hope so," he replied, "I really hope so."

"This is a great opportunity for him," Brennan said suddenly, trying to shake the sadness in her voice. "But I wish his first field job had been somewhere else."

"He's not like you, Dr. Brennan. He's been sheltered his entire life. We've sheltered him here, even with the cases we get. He doesn't understand," Hodgins agreed with her, praying their friend would be okay.

"When will he be back?" Angela asked, needing something to look forward to.

"February. Hopefully," he said, praying it was true. He knew of men whose tours had been delayed by 6 months to a year, and he prayed Zach would be lucky enough to come home on time.

"February," she repeated, the length of his expected absence settling over the group.

It was a long time, eight months, but it would go by fast. He would be home before they knew it.


	18. Father

**So sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out you guys! Yesterday I went on the field trip to Wild Rivers with 70 kids for work, which was exhausting in and of itself. Then I took the three I baby-sit regularly out for dinner and the new Harry Potter movie last night. By the time I got home I just kind of fell down and went to sleep, so no chapter got written. But here it is tonight! Another follow-up chapter for 2x22 Stargazer in a Puddle, set a couple of weeks after the ep, so spoilers for all episodes.**

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Chapter 18—Father

"Bones?" he called, knocking on the door to her office before sticking his head in.

She was in the same position she had been every time he had come by in the past two weeks, hunched over her keyboard, eyes focused intently on the screen. And as usual, she didn't hear him.

"Bones," he said again, sitting down in the chair in front of her desk. "You need to eat."

"Uh huh," she said off-handedly, barely acknowledging his presence.

He let out a sigh and leaned back in the chair. Today was no different from the past thirteen days. Their conversation, or lack thereof, was exactly the same. She had been moping around her office since Zach left and Angela and Hodgins had gone on their quasi-honeymoon. Without a team, Cam had gone to New York on vacation, and they hadn't had any cases. Brennan had drowned herself in identifying cases from Limbo and working on her next book, which was almost complete after nearly two straight weeks of writing.

"Bones, you need to eat. Let's get lunch," he said, standing up and walking around to the other side of the desk. Pulling her chair away from the desk, he put his hands under her arms to lift her out of the chair, forcing her to stand.

In accordance to their new found routine, once she was standing she quickly saved the document and closed the window. Without talking to him, or even looking at him, she walked out of her office to the SUV.

Their arrival at the diner wasn't any different, either, as they sat at their usual table and Booth ordered the usual for both of them. However, this new routine wasn't working for them. Booth was quickly getting fed up with Brennan's avoidance of him and the things that were really going on. He had tried giving her time to deal with it on her own terms, but she hadn't, and he couldn't go much longer without his best friend.

"I'm going to see your father this afternoon," he said finally, breaking their new-found rule of not talking while they ate.

For the first time since the squints had left, she actually looked at him. Granted it was in shock, and a hint of annoyance flashed across her face, but it was progress and he knew it.

"You're what?" she asked, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

"I'm going to see your father this afternoon," he said again, knowing he finally had her attention. "He called me this morning because you haven't been answering his calls."

"Do you blame me?" she asked, her annoyance fading and sadness taking its place.

"Of course I don't, you know that," Booth responded, taking in her changing moods. "He just wants to make sure you're alright. And if he can't talk to you, he wants to talk to me."

They had finished their meal, but for some reason, Booth hadn't ordered pie. Dropping some bills on the table, he stood and offered her a hand. She ignored it and stood on her own, following him as he left the diner.

They climbed into the SUV, neither speaking as they drove. But instead of heading back to the lab, Booth drove to a small park where he parked and got out. Walking over to a tree, he sat down with his back against the trunk, watching to see if Brennan would join him.

It took her a few minutes, but she finally followed, settling down on the grass next to him. She looked over at him, her unspoken questions written across her face as a deep sadness was reflected in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Bones," he said, watching her as he spoke. "If it was up to me I wouldn't have arrested him, but he gave up for you. He couldn't leave you again."

She dropped her head, breaking their eye contact. "I know," she whispered softly. "And I don't blame you, I'm just worried because he could get the death penalty, and seeing that is worse than him leaving me," she said, her voice growing more and more faint as she spoke.

Booth strained to hear her, his heart breaking as he heard the complete hopelessness in her voice. "Bones, it will be a long time before that happens," he said, "we have the trial to get through first, then appeals…"

"I know," she replied, looking back up at him, unshed tears of pain filling her eyes. "I just can't seem to make myself believe it."

"Bones," he said softly, scooting closer to her and wrapping his arms around her torso, pulling her closer to him.

Safe in his arms, she finally let herself cry. She let go of the emotions she had fought for two weeks to hold down, and cried for herself and her father. Her face was buried in his t-shirt, soaking it through as he held onto her, tears coming to his own eyes as he thought of everything she had gone through.

"I'm here, Bones, I'm right here," he said over and over, unable to tell her it would all be okay because he wasn't sure it would be.

An eternity later, she lessened her grip on his shirt, moving her head to his shoulder to look up at him.

A lock of hair had fallen in front of her eyes, which he gently brushed back behind her ear, his arms still wrapped around her. "I refused to testify for the prosecution, Bones," he said softly, praying she would understand everything he was doing was for her.

"Thank you," she replied, receiving a small drop of happiness in the ocean of sadness of the past few weeks. She knew the only reason he wasn't testifying was because of her. She smiled up at him, his wording finally sinking in. "Why did you specify you weren't testifying for the prosecution?" she asked him, surprised by the guilty look that flashed across his features before disappearing just as quickly.

"Umm," he hesitated, knowing she would find out eventually. "Your father's lawyer called me this morning and asked if I would serve as a character witness."

"But isn't Cullen going to be mad?" she asked, struck by what he was doing for her. He was putting his job at risk, again, for her.

"Oh he threw a shit fit the minute he found out I had even received the call. But when I told him I was doing it I thought he was going to kill me," he confessed, a smile and small chuckle escaping as he remembered Cullen's face.

"But he can fire you, Booth. Or split us up. You can't sacrifice our partnership for my father, Booth. I won't let you," she panicked momentarily, realizing what it could mean for them.

"Don't worry, Bones," he said, his voice soothing as his fingers traced shapes on her abdomen. "The night of the arrest I told Cullen I wouldn't help prosecute your father, and he understands. He's not happy about it, but he understands why I'm doing this. Our partnership is safe, don't worry."

They sat there a while longer in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Brennan broke the silence with a question for Booth, "Do you think I could go with you this afternoon?"

Hugging her tightly, he smiled. "Of course, Bones. Of course."


	19. Prison

**This chapter is actually a continuation of the last one. I wasn't originally planning to write the visit with Max, but I had a few people asking for it (and my muse ran off today), so I went ahead and did it. As always, let me know what you think!**

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Chapter 19—Prison

She seemed better when he picked her up a few hours later. Still quiet, but she actually looked at him and answered his questions. As they neared the maximum security prison, however, she withdrew further and further into her protective shell.

"Bones?" he asked after he'd pulled the SUV into the nearly empty parking lot, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She looked over at him, and his heart broke for the pain he saw etched into her features. "No," she replied, blinking back tears, "but it's something I need to do."

"Ok," he said, unbuckling his seat belt and climbing out of the car. Within minutes they had entered the facility and were talking to the man at the front desk.

"I'm sorry Sir," he said, addressing Booth. "I was given strict orders not to admit anyone to see Max Keenan."

"Look," Booth replied, his voice edged with a threat, "This is his daughter, and I am the FBI agent who arrested him. Check your computer and you'll see we were granted permission to see him anytime we damn well please."

"Sir, I'm just following orders," the man said again, visibly recoiling from the look Booth was giving him.

"Just check the computer, okay?"

The man quickly pulled up the information in the computer, a look of relief crossing his face as he saw their names on the list. "I'm sorry Sir, but the computer does say you are allowed to see him. Please walk down the hall and take the second left, where you'll check in and turn over your belongings. Someone there will take you to see Mr. Keenan."

"Thank you," Booth said tersely, wrapping his arm around Brennan's shoulders as he led her down the hall.

Twenty minutes later, after being thoroughly searched and having every single item taken away from them, they were led to the visiting room to see Max. They sat in the uncomfortable chairs, not looking at each other or around the bare room, both trying to compose themselves for the visit.

Two guards entered the room, startling Booth and Brennan. Max followed behind them, his hands cuffed and feet shackled, and behind him were two more armed guards.

"You have 20 minutes," the first guard who had entered informed them as he left, the other unarmed guard following behind them. The two armed men stood on either side of the door, watching Max intently.

"Hey," Booth said to the guards, who just raised their eyebrows in acknowledgement. "Can you guys stand outside and give us some privacy?" he asked, "Max isn't going to hurt us or pull anything funny."

"Fine," the guard on the right said, opening the door, "but we're watching you."

Once they both exited and pulled the door shut, Booth turned back to Max, who had taken up a chair across from them. "Hey Max, how are you doing?" Booth asked conversationally, aware of Brennan's rigid posture next to him. Moving his hand under the table, he placed it on her knee, squeezing it lightly in reassurance.

"Thank you for coming Booth, Temperance," Max responded, his eyes watching his daughter's tight features. "It was a pleasant surprise to hear you were both here to see me."

They both nodded slightly, Brennan still not speaking. After a few minutes of idle chitchat, Booth's curiosity became too much. "It's a good strategy by your lawyer to have the arresting officer testify as a character witness, Max. How did you know I wasn't going to testify against you?"

Max chuckled, a grin spreading across his features while amusement twinkled in his eyes. "I know you're a good man, Booth. And I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt my Temperance, especially something like testify against me. And since I don't really have anyone who isn't family to serve as a character witness, I knew you would be perfect, even if you hadn't been the one to arrest me. Actually, no one else would have been able to arrest me."

"Why did you let him, Dad?" Brennan finally asked, needing to hear it for herself even though Booth had told her weeks before.

Max looked at his daughter, once again seeing the pain he had caused. "Because I couldn't leave you again, Temperance. I know it hurt you every time I came and left, but it was hurting me too. I couldn't keep doing it to you, so I did the only thing I knew that would redeem me in your eyes. I gave up running." He reached across the table to take her hand in his, holding it softly as he looked at her. "Temperance, I'm sorry," he said softly, praying she would understand even though he didn't believe in a God.

They sat like that for a moment in silence, the weight of everything hanging over them. Suddenly the door opened and the armed guards were back, hauling Max to his feet. "Good bye for now Temperance, Booth," he said as he was led from the room.

"Bye Dad," she called after his retreating form. "We'll come back another day," she said more softly, knowing he couldn't hear her.

Booth squeezed her knee again before standing to leave. As always, he offered her his hand, not expecting her to actually take it. When she did, he was momentarily stunned. _Did she willingly just give into my "Alpha Male tendencies?" _he wondered, helping her to her feet and leading her from the room.

After collecting their things, the pair left the prison. Booth pointed the car towards the diner, in need of a piece of pie, knowing Brennan needed to eat before he took her back to the lab.


	20. Suffocate

Chapter 20—Suffocate

"Jack," she wheezed softly, her eyes closed as her head rested against the back of the seat.

"Hmmm?" he hummed, fighting to stay conscious.

"I'm…" she wheezed again, trying to take in enough oxygen to finish her sentence, "sorry."

As the blackness overtook her friend he touched her hand, his labored gesture telling her she was forgiven.

She was fighting to stay awake, knowing that if she gave in they would be dead. _Booth, _she thought, darkness hovering on the edges of her mind. _Hurry… I don't know how much long I can last. _

_Please, _she pleaded with a deity she didn't believe in, _just give me one more chance. I won't waste this. I need... _the darkness loomed closer, threatening to take her from the only thing she wanted.

She drew another ragged breath, her lungs constricting tightly when all they received was carbon dioxide. She was losing the fight, she knew it, but still she pleaded with any deity who might be there. _I'll tell him everything, _she swore, _I just need one more chance. Booth, please find us,_ she prayed, hoping he wouldn't be too late as she gave into the darkness and drifted off to sleep. _Please…_

* * *

She woke up suddenly, her breath caught in her lungs. Wheezing, she tried desperately to get more oxygen, which only made her breathe harder. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to calm herself, but with every passing minute she was just becoming more panicked.

Knowing the only way to calm herself, she reached for her phone, still gasping for breath as she hit her speed dial.

It felt as if her throat was constricting, keeping all the oxygen from entering her lungs, and even her scientific mind had abandoned her as she continued to breathe rapidly. Her heart was pounding furiously in her chest, the blood pumping through her ears as she listened to the phone ringing. _Please answer the phone, _she prayed, willing her sleeping partner to wake up. _Please…_

"Bones?" his groggy voice came over the line, filling her ears and mind. "Do you know what time it is?"

Still unable to breathe or calm her elevated pulse, she hoped he would know what was happening. "He…" she wheezed heavily, sucking air through her teeth as she hoped she would be able to get some oxygen into her body.

"Bones?" he asked again, his voiced edged with panic he was trying to contain. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Ho…" she tried to tell him, her vocal cords tightening as her throat constricted around the breath she had tried to take.

"I'm on my way, Bones," he said, trying to calm her, as well as himself, as he ran to the car. "Temperance," he said softly, "I need you to breathe for me, okay?"

"Uhnn," was all she was able to reply as she tried to follow his voice.

"In. Out. In. Out," he said, breathing audibly into the phone and praying she would be able to follow his leading.

She listened to him, trying to follow his breathing pattern, succeeding only slightly as her heart rate decreased, but still unable to get sufficient amounts of oxygen into her body.

"Temperance, I'm here," he said a few minutes later as he continued to try to lead her breathing.

Seconds later she heard the front door open and close, and then he was in her doorway, walking quickly over to her bed.

Dropping his phone on the floor, he knelt next to her bed, his face only inches from hers. "Okay Temperance, I need you to breath with me. In," he took a deep breath, his gaze firmly attached to her panicked eyes. "Out," he exhaled, moving one hand to her face to brush a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"In," he breathed again, feeling more than seeing her trying to match his breathing, "Out. In. Out." For the next five minutes or so he coached her through her breathing until it finally evened out, oxygen once again filling her lungs and spreading through her body.

"Temperance," he said softly, standing and moving so he could sit on the bed next to her, "I need you to tell me what triggered the attack." He had seen a lot of panic attacks during his years in the army, but very few as bad as hers had been. Gently pushing her hair behind her ear, he looked down at her, his eyes pleading with her to tell him the truth.

She closed her eyes to hide from his emotion-filled eyes. She knew she had scared him, but he was the only one who was able to bring her back from a panic attack. Moving an arm across her eyes, she whispered so softly that he had to strain to hear her, "It was the Gravedigger."

"A nightmare?" he asked, his fingers tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand.

"Yes," she replied, even softer than before. "I dreamt you didn't find us in time."

"Temperance," he whispered, gently moving her arm from across her eyes and bringing her hand to his chest. Covering her hand with his own, he held it against his heart, letting her feel the steady beating as his chest rose and fell with each breath.

He took her other hand and held it against her own heart, feeling her heart rate back at normal as her breathing held steady. _Thank God I found her in time, both that day and tonight. I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost her…_

Her body relaxed further as she felt their beating hearts, knowing they were both alive. "I'll always find you, Temperance," he whispered, his voice low and filled with sincerity.

"I know you will," she whispered back, slowly giving her body over to sleep.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked, praying she would say yes. He didn't want to leave her tonight, just in case she had another dream.

"Please," she said, her voice filled with sleep as she shifted slightly, making more space for him.

"Good night, Bones," he whispered softly, kissing her temple as he climbed into the bed.

"G'Night, Seeley," she muttered, curling up against his warm body, his steady heartbeat lulling her into a comfortable and pleasant sleep.


	21. Hug

**Hey look! Squints!! (sans Zach because he's technically overseas right now).  
**

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Chapter 21—Hug

"Hey guys," Booth called to the squints as he entered the lab. "Is Bones in her office?" he asked when he noticed his partner's absence from the platform.

"Hey Booth," Angela and Hodgins chorused, looking down at their favorite agent from their places on the platform.

"She should be up there, she went up a little while ago and we haven't seen her since," Angela replied, taking her attention from the drawing she was currently working on.

"Do we have a case?" Hodgins asked excitedly, eager to have something more productive to do. They hadn't had a case since the couple returned from their "honeymoon" and he was eager to get back to doing what he loved.

"No we don't, sorry. I'd love to stay and chat, but Bones and I are late for a meeting," he explained, turning to head up to her office but stopping short when he saw her walking towards him.

"No we're not, Booth, so calm down," Brennan told him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him quickly when she reached him.

Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he gave her a tight squeeze before releasing her, dropping his hand back to its usual place on her lower back. "Ok, well, let's get going," he said, leading her toward the double-doors.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours," she told Angela and Hodgins, who were both staring at her with stunned expressions. Raising one eyebrow in question, she let Booth lead her out of the lab.

-----------------

A few hours later, the pair returned to the lab to find Angela and Hodgins in deep discussion on the platform. They immediately stopped talking when Brennan and Booth approached the platform, looking away guiltily.

Swiping her card, the pair was granted access to the platform, where Brennan grabbed a file and handed it to Booth. "That should be everything you need," she told him.

"Thanks, Bones," he replied, pulling her into a one-armed hug. "We still on for dinner later?"

"Sure, just call to remind me," she smiled at him, returning the hug.

"Of course. I don't want to be left there alone like last week," he teased, walking toward the stairs.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" she asked, letting out an overly-exaggerated sigh.

"Probably not," he shot back, offering her a charm smile as he walked backwards toward the main doors.

The minute he passed through them, Angela let out an ear-splitting squeal that was loud enough to wake the dead.

"God, Angela! A little warning next time!" Hodgins whined, his hands covering his ears.

"Please," Brennan agreed, her own ears still ringing from the sound.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, quickly moving back to the subject at hand. "But you've got a date with Booth tonight, Sweetie!"

"I do not, Angela. We're just getting dinner like we do every Wednesday night. You know this," she sighed, not sure what Angela was making such a big deal out of.

"Fine, fine, but the two of you never _talk _about getting dinner, you just meet there."

"The only reason he mentioned it was because I got caught up in my writing last week and forgot. He had to call me from the diner to remind me I was meeting him," she let out another sigh, wishing the topic would just get dropped before the conversation went into territory she wasn't prepared for it to go.

"Alright, fine. But when did you and Booth start hugging all the time?" This was the question that had been bugging her the most since Booth had come to pick her up; the hug when he dropped her off just feeding her curiosity.

"What do you mean?" Brennan asked, slightly confused. She wasn't hugging Booth anymore than normal, right?

"When he picked you up and dropped you off, you hugged to say 'Hi' and 'Bye'," she explained, waiting for Brennan to understand.

"Oh that," she brushed it off, "that's nothing new. We've been doing that for a while." _How long have we been doing that?_ she wondered to herself, trying to think of the last time she hadn't greeted him with a hug. _It was probably before the "wedding,"_ she finally decided.

"But Bren, Sweetie, this is you. And you don't do displays of affection very often. Even with boyfriends or significant others," she tried prying a little bit more, wanting to know who had initiated it. She assumed Booth, but Brennan had been the one to hug him earlier, although he did initiate the hug when he was leaving.

"I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this, Ange. It's not a reason to interrupt work to talk about it." _Please drop it, _she wished, slightly worried where Angela was trying to take the conversation.

"Temperance Brennan, this is huge! It is definitely worth interrupting work for, not that we have much work right now anyway," Angela replied excitedly, almost bouncing where she stood in the middle of the platform. "It means you and Booth are making progress toward being a couple!"

"Ange, how many times have I told you Booth and I are not going to be a couple? We're partners and friends, that's it," she explained to Angela for the millionth time, hoping she sounded convincing. Apparently she didn't.

"Who are you trying to convince, Sweetie? Us, or yourself?" she asked, giving Brennan a knowing look.

"I've got work to do," she stated simply, shooting a glare at Angela as she turned to walk toward her office.

"You can't run away from this forever, Bren!" Angela called after her, praying Brennan would see the truth and act on it.

"Angela, please keep your voice down," a disapproving voice came from the stairs. "Some people do work around here."

"Sorry Cam," Angela said, turning back to her drawing she had abandoned hours earlier.

"What were you yelling about, anyway?" Cam asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Oh nothing, we're just trying to convince Brennan that she needs a dog," Angela explained quickly. The last thing she wanted was to tell Cam they were trying to set up Brennan and Booth. She knew Cam was still head-over-heels for Booth, and insanely jealous of his relationship with Brennan. The less she knew the better.

Hodgins had gone back to cataloging his bugs and Angela was deep in thought, plotting ways how to get her favorite non-couple together without their boss finding out. Neither heard Cam when she spoke again a moment later.

"I don't see Dr. Brennan being much of a dog person…"


	22. Cemetery

**Breaking canon a little bit here, sorry guys. I know Brennan's mom was born in April, but I had already planned to have this chapter happening around June in my lovely time line, long before I realized that fact. So we're just going to pretend her birthday is in June. And as always, I love reviews!**

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Chapter 22—Cemetery

"Hey, Ange!" Brennan called up to the platform, trying to get her friend's attention.

"What's up, Sweetie?" she asked, looking up from the computer screen.

"I'm going out for a little bit. I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?"

"Ok, sweetie. Have fun with that hunky agent of yours!" Angela grinned down at Brennan, her eyes sparkling in delight. _He's getting her out of the lab in the middle of the day, and it's not even for a case!_

"I'm not going anywhere with Booth. If he comes looking for me, just tell him I'll be back soon," Brennan replied, wondering why Angela always assumed she was going somewhere with Booth.

"Uh huh, sure Bren," Angela replied, a knowing smile on her face.

"Thanks, Ange. I'll be back in a while," she said, turning and walking out of the lab.

Leaving the lab, Brennan pointed her car out of the city, stopping only to purchase a bouquet of daisies on her way to the cemetery. As she pulled into the gates, she turned her phone off, dropping it into the glove box. She parked the car as close as she could to the grave and climbed out, walking slowly across the grass with the bundle of flowers in hand.

Arriving at the grave, she ran her fingers gently over the letters etched into the stone, tracing her mother's name. Kneeling, she placed the flowers in front of the headstone, unsure of why exactly she had come.

She pulled on the small weeds that were growing near the headstone, tearing them from the dirt and clearing them away from the grave. She sat in silence, thinking about everything she had learned over the past few weeks, about her father, her brother, and the circumstances surrounding her family leaving when she was fifteen.

"I wish you were here, Mom," she said softly, closing her eyes and taking in the sunshine. Tilting her head towards the sky, she let the warmth wash over her, spreading through her body. As irrational as it was, she found peace there. "I miss you."

* * *

_Meanwhile, across town…_

"Hodgins! Where's Bones?" Booth asked, bursting into the lab in a panic.

"Calm down there, G-Man," Hodgins said, lifting his attention from the insect classification guide he was working on. "She said she was running out for a few hours. Did you try her cell?"

"Of course I tried her cell!" he shouted at the scientist, trying to control his panic. "It's turned off or out of range, and she's not answering at home either."

"Calm down, Booth, I'm sure she's fine," Hodgins tried to ease the worried agent. Spying Angela approaching, he decided to give her a slight warning before Booth jumped on her. "Hey Ange, did Brennan say where exactly she was going?"

"No, she just said she'd be back in a couple of hours. Booth, are you okay?" she asked the agent who was noticeably pale.

"I'm just worried because the only times I can't seem to reach her or when her phone is turned off are when she's in trouble," he explained, praying she would call or tell someone where she was going next time.

"Chill, Booth," Angela soothed, placing a hand on his arm. "She just told me to tell you she'd be back soon. You're welcome to go wait in her office if you want." She smiled inwardly, seeing the agent's worry over her friend.

"Okay, that sounds like a good idea," he replied, his panic subsiding. He walked up to her office and sat on her couch, pulling out a case file and reading through it. Getting bored, he stood and paced the length of her office, finally sitting down at her desk and turning to the computer. If he was stuck waiting for her, he might as well do something productive, like checking his email.

While he waited for his email to load, he looked at the things on her desk, the little knick-knacks, the cup off the pens she loved, and her open planner. He gave in to his curiosity and looked at the planner, hoping it would shed some light on where she had gone. The date had been circled in red on the calendar, but no notes were written in the box.

_Why does today matter? _he wondered, staring at the red circle. _What happened today?_

He sat there, deep in thought for many minutes. Finally he jumped up quickly, all but running out of her office, and barely pulling the door shut behind him as he left the lab.

* * *

_I'm just scared, Mom_, she thought, trying to analyze everything that was going on in her life. _I hate being scared. I don't know what to think about Dad. I mean, I know he deserves to be in jail, but I don't want him to be locked up. I know he killed people, but he's still my father, and he was just doing it to protect Russ and me. I just don't know what to think anymore._

Letting her mind wander, Brennan thought of the other things happening in her life. Things she had been trying to ignore or forget about, but couldn't avoid much longer. _Booth. I have no idea what is going on there,_ she thought, her mind turning to the ever-evolving relationship with her partner. _It's just been awkward since Angela and Hodgins took off and left us there, standing on the altar. And the way he looked at me, all I wanted to do was kiss him. But that's insane!! He's my partner! I can't feel this way about him, I mean, if something happens… If something happened to him, I don't know how I would get through it. I don't know if I could, or if I'd want to. Where is this even coming from? I don't believe in marriage or life-long commitments to one person, but with him, I'm willing to do it._

Shaking her head, she willed the thoughts of Booth away, turning instead to Angela and Hodgins. _I just want them to be happy, _she thought, disappointed they hadn't actually be able to get married. _And I know getting married will make them both happy. I hope they can find this guy Angela married so long ago, because she deserves to be happy._

As hard as she tried, thinking about Angela and Hodgins brought her back around to Booth. _He makes me so happy, _she thought, _at the end of a long day, he can always make me smile. No matter what is going on, he's always there with me._

As she continued to think about him, she felt his presence behind her. Even though he hadn't made a sound, and her eyes were still closed and tilted heaven-ward, she knew he was there. She could feel him watching her, silently observing.

* * *

He watched her, shaking his head at his stupidity earlier. Of course she would be here today. Even though she didn't understand the point of coming to visit a grave, he somehow knew she would go on her mother's birthday.

"Hey Booth," he heard her say, her eyes still closed.

It surprised him that she knew he was there, but he didn't comment on it. Taking a few steps forward, he placed a small bouquet of flowers next to the ones Brennan had brought, then backed up so he was kneeling behind her.

"Hey Bones," he said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving them a light squeeze. "I figured I'd find you out here today."

Opening her eyes, she looked up at his rich, chocolate ones, holding his gaze. "Before my parents left, my mom and I always used to go out on her birthday. We'd get all dressed up and go somewhere fancy for dinner…" she trailed off, breaking eye contact as she looked at the headstone marking the grave.

Reaching out, she traced the letters in the stone, "Even after she left and I was in foster care or in college, every year on her birthday I would put on my best dress, I would get a haircut, and I would pretend she was coming home to take me to dinner." She stopped speaking, taking a deep breath, "And every year I would be disappointed."

He sat there in silence, his hands still on her shoulders, as she looked at the headstone, lost in her own thoughts, in her memories of better days and bitter disappointment. There was nothing he could tell her, nothing he could do but sit with her and support her as she worked it out. And so they sat.


	23. Missing

Chapter 23—Missing

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 7:25pm_

Booth was sitting at his regular table, drinking a cup of coffee in silence. He glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last ten minutes, sighing audibly. She was late. Again. Even after he had called her to remind her it was time for her to leave the office.

Picking up his phone, he dialed her number, listening to the automated voice telling him to leave a message. He tried her office number to the same thing. Hanging up, he dropped a couple of bills on the table and headed out to the SUV. If he had to drag her out of the lab, he would. It was their weekly dinner, and he wasn't going to miss it.

Arriving back at the Jeffersonian, he pulled into the parking spot next to her sports car. At least she was still here, then he wouldn't have to go to her apartment looking for her. The minute he stepped into the lab, though, he knew something was wrong.

Even from where he stood at the entrance doors, he could see the lights were off in her office and the door was pulled shut. The platform was empty as well. Walking up to her office, he tried the door and found it locked.

Pulling out his keys, he opened her office and quickly looked around. Her purse and keys were gone, but nothing else appeared to be missing. It looked as if she had left for the day.

Walking down the hall, he headed towards Angela's office. Arriving at her door, it was also closed and locked for the day. The same at Hodgins'.

"Where is everyone?" Booth wondered aloud, noticing Cam was also gone for the night.

Walking down to the security desk, Booth looked at the sleeping guard. A big help he was. "Hey!" Booth tried to wake him, succeeding as the guard nearly fell out of his chair.

"Agent Booth! I'm sorry, what can I help you with tonight?" the guard tried to pretend he hadn't been sleeping, terrified of the agent.

"Did you see Dr. Brennan leave for the night?" he asked, forcing down the growing worry that was gnawing away at his gut.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan left just before 7:00. I was surprised to see her leaving so early, but I just wished her a good night." The guard squirmed under Booth's intense stare.

"Thank you, Jeffery," Booth replied, turning away and heading back to the parking garage. _Maybe she got a ride with Angela or someone, _he hoped. The feeling that something was off still hadn't left, and he had a feeling it wasn't going to until he saw her.

Pulling out his cell, he quickly dialed Brennan's cell and home phones, both taking him to her voicemail. As a last resort, he called Angela, hoping she had seen Brennan leave.

"Hey, Angela, I was wondering if you've seen Bones?" he willed his voice to stay steady as he climbed into the SUV and headed over to Brennan's apartment.

"No, she left about a half hour before Jack and I did. She didn't go to the diner?"

"No, and she's not answering anywhere. I'm heading over to her apartment right now," he took a hard right turn in the SUV, still fighting the worry. _Calm down Booth, _he took a deep breath. _She does this from time to time. It doesn't always been she's in trouble. She did the same thing just last week, remember??_

_Yes, but she took her car last week, _the little voice in the back of his head reminded him. _It's not like her to leave her car at the lab unless you're driving._

"Booth? Are you still there?" Angela asked again, trying to get his attention.

"Oh, sorry Angela, what were you saying?" he shook his head clear the thoughts.

"Well call me back if you don't find her, but I'm sure she just went home to change. She might have fallen asleep or gotten sidetracked or something. It's Brennan, you know how she is," Angela tried to sooth the agent's worries. _He really does worry about her too much, _she thought to herself, a smile crossing her face. _But it's so sweet. I wish they would just admit how they feel and get together finally!_

"Ok, Ange, I'll talk to you later," he said, ending the phone call as he pulled up in front of her apartment, not bothering to wait for a response from the other end of the line.

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 8:00pm_

Taking the stairs two at a time, he ran up to her apartment, knocking on the door. After a minute he knocked a second time, his worry increasing. Pulling out his keys, he found the spare key and let himself in, looking around her living room to see if she had come home. There were no signs anyone had been there since she left that morning.

He paced in her hallway for a few minutes, debating where else she could possibly be. He tried calling her cell one last time, and was surprised to hear it ringing in the kitchen.

Following the noise, he found her cell sitting on the counter. Ending the call, he moved her phone to find a white envelope underneath it, his name neatly written in her small script. Picking it up, he opened it carefully, curiosity getting the better of him.

What he found was not what he was expecting to find, though. Not that he knew exactly what he was expecting.

"Fck," he swore loudly, looking frantically around her kitchen. Her keys and purse were no where to be found. "Fck!"

Pulling out his phone, he dialed quickly. The phone picked up on the second ring, Booth jumping in before she could respond. "Hey Angela…"

* * *

**AN: Hehe, I'm terrible, aren't I?? But now we're going to play a little game. Where do you think Brennan is? Did she run off somewhere without telling anyone? Did Sully come back? Was she kidnapped? Tell me what you think, as well as what you thought about the chapter!**


	24. Code

**::hides from the army of rabid armed furbies:: Sorry about the delay everyone, I was totally planning to update yesterday, but work got in the way of writing this chapter. I had to stay late to set up and rehearse for the talent show we had today. I have no talent, by the way. Yeah, so a comment about the story before I get on with the chapter: I loved all of your scenarios as to where Brennan was. Too bad I already knew where she went, or else I probably would have sent her off with Russ. But anyways, onto the story… oh, and watch the timeline. It's shifting in relation to the previous chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 24—Code 

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 6:43pm_

She smiled at the security guard as she left the lab for the night. "Good night, Jeffery," she said as she passed, impressed she remembered the man's name.

"You're leaving awfully early, Dr. Brennan. Everything okay?" Jeffery asked, surprised both to see her leaving early and that she remembered his name.

"I'm meeting someone for dinner. Have a good evening," she replied, exiting through the double doors and walking towards the parking garage. Opening the door to the stair well, she sighed. The lights were still out. Shaking off her suspicion of the dark, she started down the stairs.

She made it to the first landing, taking a deep breath and plunging even further into the darkness. _I really should tell maintenance about this tomorrow,_ she thought. Although she was surprised to see they hadn't fixed it yet, since they use the same stairwell.

Halfway down the second set of stairs, she began to get lightheaded and her thoughts were becoming fuzzy. Taking a few steps back, she sniffed the air, trying to figure out what was making her feel so bad. When it finally registered what she was smelling, she had lost most of her ability to move.

Struggling against the fumes, she made it back to the landing, pulling vainly on the door with the hope it would open. It was either stuck or locked, she couldn't tell as she began losing consciousness and collapsed onto the floor.

A few moments later the door opened, hitting her limp form with a muffled thud. The man bent down, lifting her body carefully and carried her into the garage, placing her in the back of a car, where he proceeded to tie her hands and legs together and gag her before buckling her in.

His partner emerged from the stairwell a moment later, pulling off his mask and handing over Brennan's purse and files she had been carrying.

Climbing into the SUV, they drove down two stories, pulling up and stopping alongside the door to the stairwell. The driver climbed out and quickly cut the bolt that held the door shut, pausing to pull on a mask and waiting for his partner to do the same before opening the door. Together, they lifted the lid onto the barrel and dragged it out of the stairwell, lifting it into the back of the vehicle.

Checking to see that Brennan was still unconscious, they pulled out of the garage and headed to the outskirts of the city.

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 7:05pm_

She was just coming around when they pulled into the abandoned warehouse, confused as to where she was and what was going on. Her mind cleared remarkably quickly as her captors pulled her from the vehicle, tying her securely to a chair. She struggled against her restraints, the rope rubbing painfully against her skin.

"Her damn phone keeps going off," one man told his partner with a heavy brogue, gesturing to the purse.

"Stop complaining," the smaller of the two said to the first, "It isn't going to be here much longer anyway." His brogue wasn't nearly as thick as the first man's, Brennan noted, hoping it would be useful.

The second captor placed a pencil and paper on a desk, dragging Brennan's chair to it forcefully, ignoring her muffled cry of pain when he stepped heavily onto her foot. Shoving the chair against the desk, he handed her the dull pencil.

"You are going to write a note to your FBI-agent partner and tell him to stop the investigation you are currently working on," the man instructed her, pushing the paper closer. "I don't care what you write, but don't tell him who we are, where we are, or anything else that will give away our plan. I will read it, and if it's not to my liking, you'll rewrite it."

She heard a gun being cocked somewhere behind her, feeling it pressed against the back of her skull. Trying to swallow against the gag, she lifted her hand as best she could to write the note. She had one chance to tell Booth where she was, and it had to be hidden well enough her captors wouldn't see it, but obvious enough Booth would.

"Make it quick," the man with the heavy accent told her, pushing the barrel of the gun more forcefully against her scalp. "Or we'll kill you before your 48 hours is up."

She wrote quickly, using a variation of a standard, but basic, code. Her captors didn't strike her as the smartest men in the world, and she hoped they wouldn't notice the strange capitalization in the note.

After just a few minutes she stopped writing, dropping the pencil onto the table and watching it as it rolled off and onto the floor.

The smaller of her captors, who seemed to be the one in charge, stepped forward and snatched the letter from the table, reading it quickly. He smiled at the last sentence, knowing he would, but not before forcing her to watch as he killed someone else at the 24-hour mark.

Picking up the pencil from the floor, he added something to the bottom of the note. Folding it, he placed it in a blank envelope, sealed it, and handed it back to her with the pencil. "Address it," he demanded.

Painfully lifting the pencil again, she printed "Booth" on the outside of the envelope and dropped the pencil again.

Grabbing the envelope again, he looked at his partner. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

The other man didn't respond as the first climbed back into the car and drove out of the warehouse. He removed the gun from the back of her head and dragged the chair to a pipe in an alcove off the room, wrapping chains around her already immobile form and locking the padlock. She struggled in vain against the ropes, biting back a cry of pain as the rope rubbed raw spots on her skin.

Grinning at her evilly, the man took a few steps back into the main room and flipped a light switch on the wall. A piece of glass slid into place, locking her in the tiny space as a vent in the corner opened.

She could feel herself growing drowsy as the smell once again engulfed her. _What is this?_ she wondered, fighting to stay conscious long enough to identify the gas. _At least I was right, _she thought as she realized she was losing to the looming darkness. _Please find me Booth,_ she prayed as her last thought before succumbing to the painless world of the unconscious.

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 7:25pm_

Across town, Dava King's killer entered Brennan's apartment. He walked quickly into the kitchen and placed the note and phone on the counter, knowing her partner would come looking for her. Laughing softly he left her apartment, locking it securely behind him.

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 8:15pm_

Booth, Angela, Hodgins, and Cam were gathered on the platform, pouring over the note that had been left for them. In her neat script, though the wording was strange and capitalization completely shot, they read:

booTh,

i was kidNApped oN my way out of the lab. he Got mE as i was enteRing the Parking Structure gAraGe, He Could hAve usEd some kind of chemicaL Blend. hOdgins help! he is fOrcing me To wriTe my own rAnsom noTe and He iS readIng it to make suRe I doN't tell you who he is or where he's tAken Me. not that i know the answeR to Either siLLy questIon. you need to stop looKing into the murDer of dava kiNg. tell cullen to stop the Investigation. iF you don't, he will kill me in 48 hours.

bones.

Scribbled almost illegibly underneath her note was another line:

We will kill Emily King at 7:30pm tomorrow night, whether or not our demands are met.

* * *

**Hehe, once again I leave you at an evil stopping point. But I will have the next chapter posted in a few hours. Now you need to review to play the game: What is with the gas they're using? What is hidden in the note? Why did she tell Hodgins to help her?**


	25. Affected

**I really hate the auto-correction for capital letters in Word. No matter how many times I checked and rechecked the capitalization in Chapter 24, it still got messed up. Most of you worked around it though, and I was really happy to see that some of you figured out it was backwards and others didn't. It proves my thought that you could see it if you were looking for it, but otherwise it wasn't ridiculously easy. And I'm sorry for not posting this chapter last night, like I said I would. I've noticed that if I post 2 chapters closely together, I don't seem to get any reviews on the first one. And since I really wanted reviews on Chapter 24, this one had to wait. Anyways, on to the next chapter! And once again, watch the timeline.**

**Also, spoilers for 2.09 'Aliens in a Spaceship' and a rating change for the mention of sex and rape.  
**

* * *

Chapter 25—Affected

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 8:20pm_

"TNANGERPSAGHCAELBOOTATHSIRINAMRELLIKDNIF," Hodgins spelled out in a notebook, copying the capital letters out of the note.

"Now that we have the code, what does it mean?" Booth asked, anxiously, pacing the length of the platform while Hodgins and Angela looked over the note.

"It can't be too difficult to read because she didn't have time to make it complicated, but she needed it be complex enough that her captor couldn't read it," Hodgins explained. "And she obviously knew exactly what she was doing when she wrote it. Look at the word 'siLLy,'" he suggested, observing the capitalized letters on both sides of the double L.

"Killer," Angela contributed, seeing the word written backwards. "It's written backwards." Taking the notebook from Hodgins, she copied "FINDKILLERMANIRISHTATOOBLEACHGASPREGNANT" below the previous line of letters. "And when you split it up, it says 'FIND KILLER MAN IRISH TATOO BLEACH GAS PREGNANT.'"

"Okay," Booth continued pacing, "Now we're getting somewhere. We need to find Dava King's killer because he has Bones and Emily King, and he's planning to kill both of them."

"Bren left us some hints," Angela said, studying the words she had written. "The killer is an Irish man with a tattoo? Maybe? Whose pregnant?"

"What does she mean by 'Bleach Gas'?" Hodgins wondered aloud, trying to think of anything bleach could be combined with to make a gas. "I'm going to run trace on the letter to see if we can get anything from it," he announced suddenly, standing up and walking off the platform.

Booth looked over at Angela, his worry mirrored in her eyes. "We need to find a way to identify the killer," he said, looking over at the box containing the victim's remains, staring at it intently as if it would tell him its secrets.

Cam looked from Booth to the box, knowing how much it would tear him apart if Brennan was killed. _Maybe if… no, _she thought, not allowing herself to hope for anything more from Booth. "I'm going to go check the parking garage," she said, needing to get away from the man who had turned her down for a socially-inept scientist. Motioning to a young security guard who was called in for additional security for the night, she walked out of the lab and headed toward the parking structure.

"We'll find her, Booth," Angela said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "We have to find her…"

Pulling away from Angela's hand, Booth left the platform for Brennan's office. Once inside, he flopped heavily onto the couch, trying to calm his rising panic and raging anger. _If he hurts her, I'll hunt him down and kill him with my bare hands,_ he swore, rising to pace back and forth across the office.

_I need to work right now, _he told himself, moving to her desk to look for her copy of the case file. After a 5-minute search, he realized it wasn't there. _She must have taken it with her, _he thought, _she was probably bringing it to dinner so we could go over her notes._

"Shit," he swore, dropping onto the couch once again. With his face buried in his hands, he thought about the case, trying to find something, anything, that would help him. _How the hell am I going to find the killer when I don't have an anthropologist to tell me how the girl died? With one in Iraq and one being held hostage, I have some bones and a name that can't help me. There were no suspects in the case, which is why it got bumped to me. I don't know if I can do this… there is nothing to go on._

_I just never realized how much Zach's absence would affect us, _he thought to himself. _Well, I mean I did. After the Gravedigger incident I told Bones that we saved them as a team, that if one of us was missing they would still be in the ground. I can't lose her like this, _he thought, praying for her safety. _We need to make up for the holes in the team and get her back. For all of us._

_I HAVE to do this, _he thought as images of Bones flashed through his mind. _I have to find her._ Jumping up with new resolve, he grabbed his copy of the case file and walked out of the lab, calling to Angela as he went. "I'm going to talk to Emily King's boyfriend. See if he knows anything," he told her. "Call me if anyone finds anything."

"The minute we find something you'll know," she told him, going back to her computer screen where she was inputting information to recreate the murder. _We can't do this alone,_ she thought, wishing (not for the first time) that Zach was there to help. _We're missing a big part of our team,_ she thought, praying he would come back soon.

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 9:00pm_

"They're not stopping the investigation, Boss," one man said in the empty warehouse, his voice echoing off the walls.

The smaller man looked to the corner where his two captives were restrained. He had turned off the gas when he'd returned from delivering the letter, the two women still unconsciously slumped over.

"We'll have to show them we're not playing around," he said slowly, an idea forming in his head. "Unchain Emily and bring her into the dye room," he said, leaving the main room for a smaller side room.

"Can I…?" the man asked, looking toward the woman's unconscious body.

"Do with it what you must," the leader said with a sigh, "But then I want her in the other room as soon as you're done."

"Yes, Sir," the man replied, walking toward the two women, a greedy and evil light flashing in his eyes.

Brennan watched silently, her head still slumped heavily forward as she tried to peer through her eyelashes to see what the man was going to do. She saw the man unhook the chains and drag Emily King's limp form from the chair, dropping her onto the floor.

He untied the restraints on her legs, shoving them apart roughly as he lifted her skirt and undid his pants. Brennan closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the man's grunts and groans as he raped the unconscious woman. Finally she heard the sounds stop before she heard the man lifting the girl.

Opening her eyes enough to look through the lashes, she watched the man carry the bleeding body of a young girl into the room where the smaller man had gone earlier. She heard the crack of a gunshot ringing out in the room, and she knew they had killed her.

_Booth, please find me soon! They killed Emily almost a day earlier than they had planned, which means I might not have 48-hours. I need you to find me, now,_ her mind screamed, praying the message would somehow find its way to Booth.

_Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 9:22pm_

Booth had just left the lab and was heading toward the parking structure, where he decided to take the stairs rather than the elevator. He noticed the lights were burned out as he entered, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness before he started down the stairs.

He had just made it passed the first landing when he heard a noise that made him freeze in his steps. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" he heard in the darkness, intermingled with heavy breathing and a man grunting. "Don't stop! Right there!" the voice cried out, followed by a peculiar mewling noise that Booth recognized immediately.

Pulling out his flashlight, he took the last few steps, flipping the light on the couple when he was only a few steps away. "Cam!" he almost screamed, outraged to see her having sex in the stairwell while Brennan was missing.

"God! Booth! You scared me half to death!" she shouted back, not the least bit sorry he had caught them going at it.

Unwilling to deal with her right then, he stomped passed her and down the stairs until he reached the floor he had parked on. Climbing into the SUV, he pulled away from the lab, more determined than ever to get her back safe and sound.


	26. Bleach

**I'm so sorry for the long delay on this chapter… I went out of town for the weekend to get Harry Potter and see my friends back at school. But back to the story (and more importantly, daily updates)! Another continuation on the current plot-line, so watch the time line!**

* * *

Chapter 26—Bleach

_Thursday, 14 June 2007, 9:47am_

Booth was pacing in Brennan's office, his exhaustion and worry showing on his face. There were dark circles under his eyes and creases etched deeply along his furrowed brow, making it seem as if he had aged a number of years overnight.

The ringing of his cell phone broke the silence, startling him from his thoughts. "Booth," he answered automatically, his voice tight with worry.

"Booth, it's Cullen," came the voice on the other end of the line. "A crate was delivered here for you. It's on its way to the lab now, but you're not going to like it."

Booth could hear the strain in the director's voice, and knew the contents of the crate were something he'd rather not receive. "Thank you, Sir," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you have any other information?"

"No we don't. I'm sorry, Booth. The minute your squints find something, let me know. There is already a team at your disposal."

"Thank you, Sir," he replied again, once again thankful for Cullen's trust in his abilities and understanding about their partnership. Spying the commotion in the lab where the crate was coming in, Booth's voice tightened even more, "The crate has just arrived. I'll be in touch." Hanging up the phone, he shoved it in his pocket and made his way down to the platform where Angela and Hodgins had just arrived.

"What's going on?" Angela asked as Booth showed them where to put the crate.

"Someone sent this to headquarters for me, so Cullen had them send it over here," he explained, dreading what he would find in the box. Taking a crowbar from one of the agents, he pried the lid off the wooden box, steeling himself for what he would find.

The box fell open with a bang, the sound echoing and reverberating off the walls of the lab. Everyone leaned forward to see the contents, pulling back quickly after observing the partially decomposed body.

Booth grabbed the envelope that had been placed on the body's chest and stepped back to take a deep breath of clean air. Praying it wasn't Brennan, he carefully opened the envelope and began to read.

In the same writing that had been at the bottom of Brennan's ransom note, the killer wrote:

_Agent Booth,_

_These are the remains of Emily King. Hopefully we now have your attention. Stop your investigation before we kill your partner. You have until 9am tomorrow._

"Shit," Booth swore, looking up at Hodgins and Angela. "He moved the time up to 9am tomorrow, which means we have 23 hours to find her."

Hodgins looked down at the body, noticing her clothing and the state of decomposition. "There is a lot of trace evidence on the body," he said, "I should be able to narrow down the possible places she could be." He grabbed gloves and set down to work, working furiously to find something he could use.

While Angela continued puzzling over the note Brennan had sent the night before, Booth called Cullen to inform him on the developments that had just happened.

_Thursday, 14 June 2007, 2:32pm_

Brennan rolled her stiff neck, sending a sharp, stabbing pain shooting down to her shoulder. Her muscles revolted as she shifted her torso, the ropes digging into the wounds on her wrists where the skin had been rubbed raw during the night.

With no windows or clocks in the warehouse, she couldn't tell what time of day it was or how many hours had passed. All she knew was time was running out, and she didn't want to end up like Emily King. _Hurry, Booth_, she begged, _please hurry_.

She heard the vent slide open again, and she lowered her head in defeat, knowing it would only be moments before she drifted off again.

_Thursday, 14 June 2007, 9:23pm_

The team was exhausted. They'd been working to find Brennan for 24 hours, and only had Brennan's note and the tests Hodgins had run on the body of Emily King.

At Angela's insistence, Booth had finally passed out on the couch in Brennan's office, although his sleep was far from restful. Between the nightmares of her being killed, he woke to every tiny sound, restlessly moving to find a more comfortable position.

Meanwhile, Angela was on the platform, looking at Dava King's skeletal remains. _Who's pregnant? _Angela wondered, subconsciously counting the bones of the body as she stared blankly down at the table. _What did she find on the body before she left?_

_203… 204… 205… 206… 207… 208… 209… Wait, how are their 209 bones? A body only has 206! _Looking down at the body, Angela slowly counted again, looking for something out of the ordinary. "There!" she exclaimed, noticing 3 tiny bones that were placed near the body's pelvis.

"Booth! Jack!" Angela cried out, moving toward Brennan's office to wake the sleeping agent.

Hodgins, who had been dozing at his computer, woke up suddenly because his printer was beeping, signaling the completion of another test. Grabbing the printout, he scanned it quickly, and ran out of his office toward the sound of Angela's voice.

The two met just outside of Brennan's office, where Booth had just jumped up and gone to the door. "I've got something!" the two said together, glancing at each other quickly then back to the agent.

Booth looked at the two, his spirits rising slightly now that they had found something. "What do you have, Angela?" he asked, praying she had been able to understand the clues Brennan had left them.

"Dava King was pregnant when she was killed," she said quickly, "Probably not showing too much, but far enough along to notice."

"Wait, wait," Booth said, trying to grasp the fact. "Our 13-year old victim was pregnant?"

"Yes," Angela said, needing to explain further, "And it was important enough that Bren put it in the note to us. Do you think it was the father of the child?"

"That definitely gives someone motive," Booth agreed, thinking about the men related to the case. "And we know Emily King was sexually assaulted repeatedly over the last few years, and specifically within a few hours of her death. It's probably the same man," Booth continued, thinking about the dead twins, their innocence being taken from them at such a young age.

"I've got something that might help us track down wherever Dr. Brennan is being held," Hodgins said, jumping into the conversation. "Emily King's body was bleached and then submerged in lye for a couple of hours to speed the rate of decomp, effectively ruining most trace evidence."

"How does this help us find Bones?" Booth asked, wanting him to just be blunt about what had been found.

"Well," Hodgins continued, "even though it rendered most trace inconclusive, there were still particles to be found on her clothing, specifically wool, cotton, and a number of other fibers, both natural and synthetic."

Booth gave Hodgins a blank stare, needing it explained further.

"The fibers, paired with the bleach and lye, suggests a textile warehouse of some sort," Hodgins explained, watching understanding fill the agent's eyes.

"So she's probably being held at an old clothing factory," Booth said, elated at having an idea of where she could be.

"Not necessarily a clothing factory, but you have the general idea. Also," Hodgins continued, "the 'BLEACH GAS' she mentioned in the note was chloroform. But not a small amount placed on a rag and held over someone's mouth. It was a whole barrelful placed in the bottom of the stairwell, so the fumes filled the enclosed space. The doors on all levels were also barred shut to prevent anyone from getting away," he explained, making sure Booth knew she hadn't been attacked directly.

"That makes sense," Booth replied, "Bones would've tried to fight off someone if they had snuck up on her, but since she was locked in the stairwell she didn't have the chance."

"Exactly," Hodgins agreed, knowing Brennan would've fought tooth and nail if someone had come up behind her. "One other thing, Emily King's remains showed a long-term exposure to chloroform gas, so the killer probably has a tie to the textile business and has been using it to abuse her for a number of years."

Booth nodded, knowing he was now on the lookout for an abandoned textile building. "Can you test Dava King's remains and tell me if she went through the same thing?" he asked Hodgins as he moved back into Brennan's office and toward the computer.

"Sure," Hodgins said, "it shouldn't take too long since I'm looking for one specific chemical." He hurried back to the platform to grab a sample before returning to his office to perform the test.

When Hodgins had left, Booth pulled up the FBI database, searching for abandoned textile mills and warehouses in the area while Angela hovered behind him, pacing nervously.

The search finished, popping up one result. "We've got it!" Booth said, jumping up from the chair and grabbing his cell. "I know where she is!"


	27. Rescue

**For those of you who asked, I adore the new Harry Potter book (sans Epilogue). But onto the new chapter! Remember, the timeline shifts… watch it.**

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Chapter 27—Rescue

_Thursday, 14 June 2007, 10:48pm_

Booth was speeding through the streets of DC, lights flashing as he took a sharp right turn. Checking his rearview mirror to make sure the other agents were still behind him. As he neared the more isolated outskirts of the city, he turned off the lights and sirens, trying not to draw attention to their arrival.

The line of vehicles came to a stop in front of the old abandoned textile factory, dozens of agents quickly exiting and moving into position with their weapons drawn.

"Booth!" Cullen hissed, waving the agent over. "Get over here!"

_Thursday, 14 June 2007, 10:28pm_

Brennan lifted her head, looking around when a phone began ringing. Ignoring the pain in her neck, she strained to hear the conversation that was taking place in the other room. She didn't have to try too hard, though, because the man was nearly screaming into the phone.

"Shit, are you sure?" the man asked, panic filling his voice. "Fck!" he swore loudly, running into the main room where Brennan was. "Sean!" he called, "We gotta go! The Feds are on their way. Somehow they figured out where we are."

_Booth!_ she thought, relief filling her mind. _I knew he would find me._

"Damn!" Sean said, grabbing a bag that was on the table and throwing it into the vehicle. "Are we taking her?" he asked, gesturing to Brennan, who was pretending to be unconscious.

_Just leave me, please! _she begged silently, _I just want to go home!_

"Flip the gas and leave her, we have to get out of here!" he replied, climbing into the driver seat and waiting for his partner.

Sean ran to the switch and flipped it, causing the alcove to seal off and the vent to open, before running back to the vehicle and climbing in.

Brennan could just hear the smaller man as if the gas tank had been refilled as Sean pulled his door closed, the tires squealing as they fled from the warehouse.

_Thursday, 14 June 2007, 10:52pm_

"Booth," Cullen started, knowing he was going to react badly. "I know you want to get in there and find Dr. Brennan, but I need you to stay out here. This case is too personal for you." Cullen silently prepared himself for Booth's anger, taking a deep breath before looking at the agent.

"Of course this is personal!" Booth exclaimed, anger pouring off him in waves, "The bastard took my partner and might have raped her! I'm going in!"

"Booth," Cullen said sternly, looking the younger man straight in the eyes. "I need you to treat this as if it were any other case. I can't have you just shooting whomever you please."

"I just want to get my partner back, Sir," Booth said, knowing he shouldn't be allowed in the building. "Please let me go in."

Sighing, Cullen looked at Booth, remembering the time he had been in Booth's place. "Alright," he agreed after a moment, "but you stay back. Your only purpose is to get Dr. Brennan and get her out of there and into an ambulance. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Booth said, "Thank you, Sir."

"Don't thank me until your Doctor is out alive and on her way to the hospital," Cullen replied, turning his attention to the other agents who were gathered nearby. "Okay everyone," he started, getting their attention. "On of our own is in there, and we don't know how many we're up against. I want you four," he pointed to the agents in question, "to go around the back and make your way in. We'll have you six," he pointed to another set of agents, "and Booth go through the front. The rest of you will secure the perimeter and make sure no one gets passed you on their way out. I want you all to be quiet, careful, and on alert." He waved the agents into position, silently praying Brennan would be unharmed and none of his agents would get injured. Nodding at Booth, he gave the signal for them to enter the building and stepped back near the vehicles.

They entered the building silently, under the cover of darkness. Booth's team snuck through the front, entering the bleaching room first. He drew a haggard breath between his clenched teeth as his flashlight beam passed over a deep basin that was covered with blood.

_Please let her be alive, _he prayed, desperation filling his mind. _Please let her just be alive, I don't know what I'd do without her._

They cleared the bleaching room and moved into the next room, where a large machine filled most of the space. Clearing it quickly, they moved into the main room of the warehouse, where they met up with the second team.

Moving in opposite directions along the outer walls, they cleared the side rooms as they came to them, not a soul to be found in the building.

_She's got to be here,_ Booth thought, desperately looking for any sign of her. Noticing fresh tire treads on the floor, Booth silently pointed them out to his fellow agents who all nodded and spread out even further.

As Booth continued along the wall, the light from his flashlight shone brightly back at him, reflecting off a piece of glass. Moving closer to the glass, he redirected the beam of light, squinting to try to see what lay beyond the glass.

Brennan had been struggling to stay awake; the thought of Booth saving her was the only thing keeping her from slipping into unconsciousness. She knew the tank was almost out of the chloroform gas because even after almost a half hour it hadn't fully affected her, which she was grateful for.

She watched as beams from flashlights flickered and swept through the warehouse on the other side of the glass, hoping that one of them was Booth. She squeezed her eyes shut as one of the beams of light swept over her body, momentarily blinding her. When she opened them again, she could just make out the outline of a man's body peering through the glass door.

He could barely see the outline of a human body that appeared to be tied to a pole. _It's her!_ his mind exclaimed, relief filling him momentarily before he realized he didn't know how to get her out.

Grabbing his radio, he called for an agent to bring him something to break down the glass door. Within a moment someone was handing him a sledgehammer, which he quickly took to the lower portion of the glass. Slowly he knocked the majority of the glass out of the way, working his way from the bottom up so as not to send glass flying towards her.

"Booth?" she said softly, her throat constricting in pain as she watched the silhouette breaking down the glass door. "Booth?" she asked again, with more strength in her voice.

"I'm coming Bones," he said, elated to hear her voice, "I'm coming." He knocked out enough glass to get through to her, dropping the sledgehammer for another agent to finish with the glass. "Bones," he whispered softly so only she could hear, his fingers tenderly stroking her cheek, "I'll get you out of here."

Quickly looking over the restraints holding her in place, Booth turned back to the agents standing in the doorway with their lights shining in the small space, calling for a pair of bolt cutters. Once again they were handed over within a minute, and he set to work breaking her out of the restraints. First he cut the chains that were holding her to the pole, causing her to sag heavily against him when the fell loose.

"Almost there, Bones," he said, pulling out a pocket knife and carefully cutting the rope from her feet and hands, "Almost there."

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**Yeah, yeah, I know you all hate me for leaving this again, but it leads straight into the next chapter. So review and the next chapter will be up tomorrow! And I don't want to seem like I'm begging for reviews, but there are 59 of you who have this on alert (not counting those who have me on their author alert), and I'm only getting about 9 or 10 reviews per chapter. That math just doesn't add up to me, so REVIEW!**


	28. Embrace

**Continued right after the previous chapter… no more time stamps to watch, and a little less angst (at least for now).**

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Chapter 28—Embrace

"Almost there, Bones," he said, pulling out a pocket knife and carefully cutting the rope from her feet and hands, "Almost there."

Carefully avoiding the raw spots on her wrists and ankles, he pulled the rope loose, dropping it to the floor next to her. Without the restraints holding her in place, she sagged heavily against him, her head on his shoulder with her face buried in his neck.

"I've got you, Bones," he whispered in her ear, placing a soft kiss to her temple. "You're safe now," he said, more to himself than to her. Slipping his arms around her waist, he was surprised to feel her move her arms around his shoulders.

Her breathing was ragged against his skin, her body shaking slightly against his. Holding her tightly, he could feel their hearts beating together, showing them that they were both really there.

She tightened her grip on his shoulders, burying her face in his shirt while she tried to fight back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She could feel his arms around her pulling her closer, if that was even possible, and she found herself wishing they could stay there forever.

Cullen approached the alcove where the two partners were holding each other, waving off the agents who were standing there staring at the pair. "I want you to search the building and see if you can find anything that will give us an idea where they went," he barked at the agents, waiting for them to scatter before turning his attention back to the pair.

_Thank God she's okay, _he thought, saying a silent prayer. _It would have killed Booth, and I would have lost my best agent and his doctor partner. _A knowing smile crossed his face as he leaned against the table, watching the pair.

Inside the alcove, Booth could feel her hot breath against his neck, her breathing slowing and becoming more even as she allowed herself to give into sleep now that she was safe in his arms. He lifted her carefully, one arm wrapped around her back with the other behind her knees, cradling her close to his body.

He stood, turning toward what remained of the glass door and made his way out of the warehouse, Cullen falling into step next to him. Once outside Booth laid her gently on the stretcher before turning to his superior, a question hovering on his face.

"Ride with your partner," Cullen told him, answering his silent question. "I'll take your car to the hospital and call the squints to meet us there."

"Thank you, Sir," Booth said respectfully, once again thankful for Cullen's understanding. He climbed into the ambulance next to Brennan's sleeping form, allowing his fingers to gently stroke her hair while the paramedics checked her vital signs and inserted and IV.

Upon their arrival at the hospital a few minutes later, Brennan was whisked away for tests and Booth was left with a pile of paperwork. Abandoning the forms, he chose to pace the waiting room, anxious to see her.

After a few minutes of restless pacing, he picked up the forms again, filling them out to the best of his ability. Just as he was finishing them, Angela, Hodgins, and Cullen burst through the doors of the waiting room.

Offering Booth a quick hug, Angela sat next to him. "Have you heard anything? How is she?" she asked anxiously, desperate for information about her best friend.

"They're running some tests," Booth explained, fiddling with the pen that was attached to the clipboard. "They don't think there is anything seriously wrong, they just want to make sure the gases didn't have any long-term effects."

With a glance at Hodgins, Booth knew he was running through lists of possible complications due to the gases in his head. "Stop thinking so much, Hodgins," he said, catching the other man's attention, "They didn't have the gas going the whole time she was there, just periodically to keep her from fighting."

The scientist just nodded, twiddling his thumbs and trying to think about something besides his friend suffering from lingering respiratory problems due to the gases. Taking Angela's hand, they comforted each other, knowing Brennan would be alright.

Booth looked from the squints' joined hands to Cullen who had taken a seat on the other side of Hodgins. "Sir," Booth addressed him, "You should go home. You've been at work for almost 48 hours."

Cullen nodded, lifting his gaze from his clasped hands and looking at Booth. "Ok," he said, "I'd love to get some sleep. You should try to get a little as well," he offered, knowing Booth had been working the same length of time.

"I'm going to stick around here until she wakes up, just to make sure everything is alright," Booth responded, his exhaustion finally breaking into his voice.

"She'll be okay, Booth," Cullen reassured the younger agent. "I want you to take the next couple of days off to make sure she's alright, and catch up on some sleep yourself, alright?"

"Yes, Sir," Booth replied, knowing it was no use arguing about working on the case to find the men who had done this.

"Leave finding these bastards to us for now, Booth," Cullen told him, seeing the look of sheer determination in Booth's eyes.

"Yes, Sir," he replied, dropping his gaze to the floor as Cullen stood and left the waiting room.

"We'll get started on the case first thing in the morning," Hodgins told him as soon as the Deputy Director had left the room. "I want to catch the bastard who did this."

Booth nodded at him, glad to have the squints with him while he waited.

"Agent Booth?" a small, blonde nurse asked, looking around the waiting room.

He stood up quickly, almost knocking over the chair he had been sitting in. Hurrying over to the woman, he could feel Angela and Hodgins hot on his heels. "Yes?" he asked, "Is she alright?"

"She's stable and awake right now," the nurse explained. "She started asking for you the moment she came around. I'll take you back to see her, but first I need to get the forms I left you with."

Handing over the papers, he let out a sigh of relief as the three followed the nurse down the hall, stopping at the nurses' station.

"I can only let family in right now," she told them, noticing Angela and Hodgins for the first time.

"This is her sister," Booth jumped in quickly, "and her brother-in-law."

Raising her eyebrows, the nurse sighed in defeat, "Fine, but you can't stay long. She needs her rest."

"Of course," Angela said, smiling at the woman, "We just want to make sure she's doing alright."

Nodding, the woman looked down at paper on her clipboard, finding the room number. "Mrs. Brennan is in room 401," she said, pointing down the hall.

"Doctor Brennan," the three automatically responded, grinning at each other out of sheer happiness and exhaustion.

"Thank you, miss," Hodgins told the nurse as the three turned and hurried down the hall, desperate to see their friend.

Entering the room, they saw she was sleeping once again, and the IV still attached to her hand. In addition, they could see bandages wrapped around her wrists, and knew her covered ankles had the same. Walking over to the bed, Angela and Hodgins smiled down at Brennan, happiness and exhaustion fighting for dominance over their faces.

"Why don't you two go home and get some sleep?" Booth suggested, pulling a chair closer to the bed. "I'll stay here for a while, so she doesn't wake up alone. I'll tell her you came by."

"Okay," Angela told him, glancing at Jack. "Call us if anything changes. Otherwise we'll stop by in the morning on our way to work," she said, resting her tired head on Hodgins' shoulder.

"Good night, guys," Booth said, "Thanks for everything."

"Of course," Hodgins told him. "Anything for Dr. Brennan."

Booth offered them a tired smile in return, turning his attention back to the sleeping body on the bed in front of him. Taking her free hand he gently ran his thumb over the knuckles, as if trying to remind himself that she was there.

As Angela and Hodgins left the room, they glanced back to see Booth laying his head on the bed, almost asleep with her hand still in his.


	29. Hit

**I'M BACK!! And it appears this story may get finished someday. Now that I know for sure my Bones muse hasn't completely died, there is hope for continuing this one. Remember, since this is (mostly) a series of one-shots, it's not necessary to go back and re-read the previous 28 chapters to know what is going on in this one, but this is a general follow-up to the case in chapters 23-28. And I want to give a big thanks to anyone who has been reading this since my hiatus at the end of July. Hopefully all my readers from before are still with me as well.**

**As always, reviews feed me and keep me encouraged to write more.**

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Chapter 29—Hit 

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he took another swing at the bag, hearing more than feeling the crack of his knuckles against the hard material. Again and again he swung with all the force he could muster, trying to expel all his anger onto the punching bag. It wasn't working.

He had been at the bag for well over an hour, hitting it repeatedly, harder and more fiercely than he had even in the Army. His hands were long since numb, clenched so tightly into fists he didn't know if he would be able to stretch them ever again. His arms felt like lead, every swing sucking more energy from his exhausted body, but he wouldn't stop.

He heard the door open behind him, as it had every fifteen minutes since he had come in, and waited for Cullen's orders for him to go home. They didn't come.

Instead, he heard the tentative voice of his partner coming from the doorway. "Booth? Cullen said you were in here…"

Not responding, he took another swing at the bag, trying to ignore the sound of her unsteady steps as she crossed the room. She still hadn't healed fully, and was walking with a slight limp to lessen the pain in her ankles.

Knowing he only had a few moments before she would try to stop him from hitting the bag, he took two more swings at it, the satisfying snap as his left fist came into contact with the bag echoing throughout the empty gym.

"Booth?" her voice came again from right behind him, "I think you may have just broken your hand." Her voice carried that mechanical, matter-of-fact tone she used when she needed to distance herself emotionally from whatever was happening around her. It only served to fuel his anger.

_We've been doing so well,_ he thought bitterly, _and now, she's going back to the not caring and detached Bones. I can't take that. These bastards already did a number to her, but it's even carrying over well after they're gone!_

"Booth, please look at me," she asked, almost pleading with him. She could see blood on the punching bag, and after hearing the sound his fist made on impact, she could only imagine the shape his hands would be in after almost two hours of going at the bag without gloves.

When he finally turned, she realized it was worse than she had imagined. His knuckles on both hands were split open and caked with blood, as well as still bleeding freely. Even after turning away from the bag, his hands were still clenched into fists, which she expected was because he couldn't get his muscles to relax long enough to un-fist them. Looking up from his hands to his face, she was struck by anger and fury she saw etched across his features. The bags under his eyes attested to the fact that he hadn't slept in days, and he had dried blood smeared across his forehead from where he had wiped the sweat off.

Needing to sit down, she limped over to the bench on the side of the room, hoping Booth would follow her. He did, reluctantly dragging his body after her.

As soon as he was seated next to her, she took his left hand between hers and forced him to release the fist. After a few minutes his muscles finally relaxed and it took all his self control not to groan at the pain that was now shooting up his arm.

"Your metacarpals may not be broken," she said, "but you definitely fractured a few. You'll need x-rays to assess the damage."

"I'm fine," Booth replied, not meeting her questioning gaze. "You, however, shouldn't even be out of the hospital yet."

"I was going stir-crazy," Brennan told him. "I threatened the doctor into signing my release papers. Angela picked me up and brought me here."

"Well you need to go back," Booth told her, finally looking at her, "I'm taking you back now." He stood slowly, pulling his hand from hers without as much as a wince.

"Only if you agree to get your hand looked at when we get there," Brennan replied, knowing full well it was the only way he would agree to see a doctor.

"Fine," Booth agreed, "but you have to stay there until they tell you that you're healthy enough to go home. No more threatening or begging the doctors to let you out."

"I never begged," Brennan said, letting a smile spread across her face. "You're the one who always winds up begging after threatening doesn't get you anywhere."

"Yeah, yeah," Booth replied, walking slowly towards the door to the gym so Brennan could keep up.

Smiling, Brennan pulled out her phone and hit speed-dial 2 to call Angela.

"Who are you calling?" Booth asked, looking over at his partner as he paused to let her go through the door first.

"Angela," she replied, listening to the phone ring. "You're in no shape to be driving right now."

"Hey!" he tried not to shout, "I'm just fine."

"No you're not," she told him, "you've obviously broken one hand, and the other one is still in a fist. How are you supposed to steer the car?"

"I'll be fine," he tried to argue, but was cut off abruptly as Brennan started speaking.

"Hey, yeah, I'm fine. Can you come pick me up again? Booth is making me go back to the hospital. Ok, I'll see you in a few minutes."

Turning her attention back to her partner, she softly poked at the wrist of his opened left hand. His wince was more than enough to prove that he wasn't fine.

"Alright, so maybe I can't drive right now," he agreed sullenly, dropping his gaze to the floor as they left the Hoover building. "But don't tell Angela that I broke my own hand. Tell her that I..." he trailed off, trying to think of a believable story.

"How about I tell her you were drinking and got into a fight with a mirror?"

"No!"


	30. Swim

**Oh lookie! Another chapter! Thanks for all the reviews you guys! They mean everything to me and they keep me writing. And I'm glad not all of you have abandoned me after my five-month hiatus from writing fanfic. Without further ado, I give you a dripping wet Booth.**

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Chapter 30—Swim 

Booth stepped inside the Jeffersonian, extremely thankful to be inside an air conditioned building after the short walk from his SUV.

"Bones! You ready to go?" he asked, seeing his partner rustling through some papers on the platform. No one else was to be found.

"Um, yeah," she replied, looking up from the papers in her hand. "Give me just a minute to put these away and grab my bag."

_I never thought it would be that easy to get her out of here,_ Booth thought to himself, surprised by the lack of argument from his partner.

"Everyone else left over an hour ago, I was just waiting for you," Brennan explained as she re-emerged from her office and walked toward Booth.

"Wow, Bones, you're ready for the weekend on a Friday afternoon. I'm impressed," he teased her, opening the door and venturing back out into the heat.

"Well, since I'm leaving in the morning for Peru, it didn't make sense to open a case from Limbo," Brennan explained, hurrying toward the parked SUV, her bag bouncing softly against her hip.

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Twenty minutes later the pair had parked and emerged into the humid air surrounding the Hodgins estate, where they were promptly waved inside and shown where to change and leave their things. 

Booth was done first, and after being led through a maze of hallways and rooms, he was pointed outside, where he could see the rest of the team spread out around and in the enormous pool. Stepping back into the humid air, he greeted everyone and dropped down into a chair to wait for his partner's appearance.

Looking around at his co-workers, he smiled at the strange combination.

Zack, who was already in the pool, was the resident genius with the wacky experiments. Booth could already see his pale shoulders turning pink in the sun.

Hodgins, who was using the excuse of putting sunscreen on Angela to cope a feel, was the billionaire bug enthusiast.

Angela, who was thoroughly enjoying Hodgins' wayward hands, was the slightly eccentric artist.

Cam, who was lounging in a chair and clearly enjoying the attention of the pool hand, was the head of and voice of reason of the misfit team.

The sound of the sliding door opening brought Booth's attention back to his partner, the heart and soul of the team of scientists.

He was shocked to see her step outside in a bright blue bikini, carrying herself the same way she did around the lab or a crime scene—confident and sure of herself.

She approached Booth, who still hadn't managed to tear his eyes away from her, her self-assuredness wavering momentarily. "Booth, will you put sunscreen on my back?" she asked, her gaze on the ground near her feet.

"Oh, sure, Bones," Booth replied, the question having snapped him back into reality.

While he lightly rubbed the sunscreen into her soft flesh, he tried not to think about her body or the smooth curve of her spine. Angela's sudden appearance next to them helped to distract him from the curve of her body where her spine dipped inward before moving back out at her waist. It was a place his hand was well acquainted with, from resting there as they walked, but he had never actually seen.

As usual, Angela was talking a mile a minute, but Brennan was having trouble focusing on her friend's words while Booth's hands were gently making their way down her back.

"I'm sorry Ange, could you repeat that?" she asked for the third time, finally able to pay attention to her friend when Booth lifted his hands from her skin. She tried to ignore the intense feeling of disappointment she felt when his hands moved by focusing her attention on something else, like the words currently coming out of her best friend's mouth.

"I do, occasionally, leave work early," Brennan told her friend, rolling her eyes at Angela's snort of disagreement. "Why are you all so amazed?"

Continuing to debate about her work habits with Angela, her attention wavered as she watched Booth out of the corner of her eye.

He had stood up from the lounge chair, catching her complete attention when he peeled his thin t-shirt from his sweaty skin and made a beeline for the pool. Diving gracefully, with hardly a splash, he had caused the rest of Brennan's argument to die somewhere between her brain and mouth.

Trying to shake off her distraction, Brennan turned back to Angela to find a mischievous smile across the artist's face.

"What?" she asked, trying to play stupid. She knew what that look on Angela's face meant, but also knew it was easier to head it off by feigning ignorance than to debate over her supposed attraction to her extremely well-built partner.

"Oh nothing," Angela teased, "just noticing how you couldn't take your eyes off your knight in shining FBI standard-issue body armor… or, I guess his lack of."

"Angela!" Brennan hissed, trying to keep her voice low and neutral, so as not to attract Booth's attention. "For the hundredth time, I'm NOT attracted to Booth! I was just distracted by the scar on his back."

She knew her argument was getting her nowhere, but she truly had noticed the scar, however it had been the smooth, firm planes of his back that had really caught her attention. She already knew about the scar.

"Uh huh."

Angela's Cheshire cat smile reappeared as Brennan's attention was once again caught by Booth, who was swimming in circles, obviously enjoying the water.

"What was that, Ange?" Brennan asked again, not having heard her friend while she had watched Booth shove Zack under the water and the scientist coming back up gasping.

Angela repeated her question, Brennan's eyes still fixed on the blue water and the man in it.

"I don't know. How do you play chicken?"


	31. Bite

**Disclaimer (since I realized I rarely, if ever, do these): I own nothing other than my car and computer, and looking at my credit card debt, it's obvious I'm not making any money off of this.**

**This one is for my ever wonderful Jacey, and our ridiculous discussions in the wee hours of the morning.**

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Chapter 31—Bite 

The pair entered the crime scene, ducking carefully under the police tape while Booth flashed his badge at the officer on duty.

Stepping into the entryway, it was apparent to Booth that the house belonged to an older woman. Brennan, preferring to draw her conclusions from the body and not personal effects, kept her eyes away from the pictures in the hall and the delicate doilies draped over the back of the sofa.

Following the officer who was leading them to the remains, Booth looked around the living room, which was crowded with wire cages. Each cage contained a large ball of fluff in shades of white, gray, and mixture of the two.

"What are those?" Booth wondered aloud, wrinkling his nose against the strong smell that permeated the room. "Cats?"

"We haven't figured that out yet," the officer told him, looking back at the agent. "We were wondering if she was maybe breeding something she shouldn't have been."

"I think they're angora rabbits," Brennan told him, looking at the cages.

"Those are rabbits?" Booth asked, noticing the balls of fur were matted and dirty. "I didn't know rabbits could have fur that long."

"It's actually a combination of wool and hair, not fur. They obviously haven't been cared for properly," Brennan explained, "their fur is usually soft and fluffy if they are taken care of."

"If the woman has been dead as long as the coroner estimated, I'd be surprised if they are still alive," the officer told her, turning into another hallway and leaving the rabbits out of sight.

"They're obviously still alive," Brennan told him. "The smell would be much worse if the rabbits were dead and decaying in their cages, it wouldn't just smell of feces and urine."

Booth fought to keep down his smile at the officer's surprised look.

"Coroner estimated the woman to have been dead for near a month, if not longer," the officer told the pair. "How could the rabbits have lived that long without food or water?"

"We'll just have to look at the evidence and see what it tells us," Brennan replied off-handedly, turning her attention to the commotion in a doorway at the end of the hall.

"What happened here?" Booth asked one of the officers who were standing in the doorway of what he assumed to be the master bedroom.

"Neighbor hasn't seen the old bird in a few weeks," the officer told them, "so she called the cops to check it out when no one answered. I was the one who got the call and came over. Found the body just there," the man gestured behind him into the room. "She's been dead a while. See for yourself."

Brennan followed her partner into the room, moving directly to the corpse and leaving Booth to canvas the room for any clues or details that would be pertinent to the case.

"Female, approximately seventy-five to ninety years of age, apparent death by asphyxiation," she rattled off, studying the body and seeing the broken hyoid bone. "There also appear to be inconsistent marks on the bone…" she trailed off, thankfully noting the gnawing marks were clearly not human and it would not be another body to add to their serial killer case. "Probably rodent, but I'll have Zach confirm back at the lab."

"Like rats?" Booth asked, looking around the room as if the offending creature would be sitting in a corner.

"Not necessarily rats," Brennan told him, still studying nearly skeletal body. "Guinea pigs, hamsters, and squirrels all belong to the rodent family as well."

"You seen anything loose in here?" Booth questioned the officer who was still hovering near the door?

"Nope, nothing," the man said, pulling his gaze away from Brennan's figure and back to informing the agent of the specifics of the investigation thus far. "Although the bedroom window is open a little," he gestured, "so I suppose something could've crawled in and out.

Booth looked over to where the officer had pointed and saw that the window was indeed cracked open. It was locked in position not to open any wider than an inch or so, which negated the possibility of a home invasion.

While Booth ran possible scenarios in his head, his gaze dropped lower on the wall from the window to the dark corner between the dresser and the wall. There was something in the corner. He had seen the dark shadows move.

Brennan saw Booth freeze, intently watching the corner. Keeping one eye on his alert behavior, she continued making observations on the body.

She saw when he pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and move to the corner to shine the light to see what was there.

"Great," Booth said, the beam of light landing on a dark gray ball of fur. "There's a loose rabbit in here, and it's still alive" he told anyone who was listening, reaching in to pick up the animal.

Grasping the animal by the loose skin at the nape of its neck, Booth lifted the rabbit from the corner before adjusting his grip on the animal wouldn't fall.

"Shit!" Booth yelled suddenly, dropping the rabbit and clutching his other hand tightly.

"What happened?" Brennan and the officer asked in unison, their attention on Booth and not the ball at his feet.

"Stupid thing bit me!" Booth told them, fighting down the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes.

"I guess that's what you get for eating that bunny jerky yesterday," Brennan grinned at him. "I told you not to eat it."

"It was rabbit jerky that my dad sent me. I was being polite. But that doesn't mean anything today, that damn rabbit bit me!"

"Oh you big baby," Brennan rolled her eyes, tossing her purse from the floor to Booth. "There's a first aid kit in there and you can clean it out."

"Thanks, Bones," Booth said, cleaning out the wound on his finger and giving the ball on the floor a nudge with his foot. "Stupid rabbits. That was why I never had a pet when I was growing up."


	32. Sport

Chapter 32—Sport

"I can't believe I agreed to go to your parents' house for Thanksgiving," Brennan bemoaned from the passenger seat, where she was currently staring out the window at the passing trees.

"Bones, come on. It's just one weekend. And you promised Parker, remember?" Booth asked, glancing in the rearview mirror to check on his sleeping son.

"Yeah, you're right. What was I thinking?" she asked, lightly teasing him. There were worse places she could be spending the long weekend, although she had really been looking forward to catching up on some of the cases from Limbo.

* * *

"Hey, Bones," Booth stuck his head in the guest room where she was staying, "I'm going to play a game of football with my brother and some old friends. You want to come?" 

"Sure," Brennan replied, looking at her partner in the mirror that was above the bureau, "Give me just a minute to get my shoes on and grab a jacket."

"Ok, I have to get Parker ready, so I'll meet you downstairs," he told her with a grin.

Downstairs, she found Booth fighting to get Parker in a jacket, while his brother stood impatiently by the door.

Twenty minutes later, the four climbed out of Booth's SUV at the local park and headed over toward a large group of men and what Brennan assumed to be their families.

"Hey there, Seeley! Jared! Long time no see!" a bunch of them called out to the approaching group.

When they finally reached the field where everyone was gathered, Brennan saw that the group indeed consisted of Booth's old friends with their wives or girlfriends, and their children. Parker immediately grabbed Brennan's hand at the sight of so many people, hiding behind Booth's large form, to Brennan's great dismay.

"Hey everyone," Booth and Jared greeted the group, hugging and shaking hands with a number of them.

"Who do you have with you?" a young blonde woman asked, looking at Brennan and Parker, who had remained back, away from the group.

Booth walked back over to them and with his hand on Brennan's lower back, led them towards the group. "This is my partner, Temperance Brennan, and this," Booth scooped Parker up into his arms, "is my son Parker."

The blonde woman stepped forward with an outstretched hand, which Brennan shook lightly. "I'm Jess," she introduced herself, gesturing to a man off to the side "and that's my husband Joe. Our two boys are running around here somewhere. It's nice to meet you; Seeley never brings anyone around these parts," she teased, a bright smile on her face.

The rest of the introductions passed in a flurry of handshakes, names, and how everyone was related to or acquainted with everyone else. It seemed as if they had all grown up together, and married within the group. Brennan didn't remember the majority of the names.

"We gunna get this game going?" one of the larger men asked, tossing his empty beer bottle towards the trash can.

"Yeah, let's go," the others agreed, heading out to the middle of the field and leaving the women and kids on the sideline to watch and gossip.

"You'll be fine," Booth assured Brennan, seeing the panic-stricken look on her face. "You've got Parker with you, and I promise none of the rest bite."

"Alright," Brennan replied reluctantly, watching him walk out to the middle of the field where they were choosing teams.

"Dr. Bones?" Parker asked, tugging on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, "Can I go play on the swings?"

"Sure," she told him, "Just make sure I can see you, alright?" _There goes having Parker with me,_ Brennan thought to herself, trying not to worry about having to make small-talk with the wives and girlfriends.

Parker scurried off after a group of kids, heading toward the small playground next to the field that was still within her line of sight.

Keeping an eye on the playground, Brennan turned her attention back to the field where the men were lining up to start the game. Consequently, her attention was otherwise occupied when the blonde dropped down next to her, taking her completely by surprise.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle ya," the girl told her with a smile. "Just thought I'd come over and get to know you a little better."

"That's okay," Brennan turned to look at the woman, as well as over her shoulder to check on Parker. "Jess, right?"

"That's me," Jess replied, taking a moment to look over towards the playground behind her. "I thought Seeley wasn't with Parker's mom anymore."

"Oh, I'm not Parker's mother," Brennan explained, "just Booth's partner at work."

"Really?" the woman drawled out, making it completely obvious she didn't believe they were just partners.

"Yes, really. We just work together."

"Parker seems awfully attached to you," Jess observed, noticing Parker looking over toward the table every few minutes.

"He just gets shy around large groups of people he's never met," Brennan explained, looking at the woman, but keeping some of her attention on the playground where Parker was swinging.

"Those are my two," Jess told her, pointing to two small boys with sandy blonde hair on the slide. "They'll be seven in about a week. How old is Parker?"

"He's almost six," Brennan told her, not realizing she had actually known how old Parker was.

"So, _Doctor_ Brennan," Jess started, emphasizing her title, "Can I get a little hint about what is going to happen in your next book?"

Brennan grinned at the woman's eagerness, looking like Parker or Booth when they were getting a present, or food. "Nope, no hints," she answered, "Booth would kill me if I told someone else something that he didn't know. And please call me Temperance, or Tempe."

"Alright then, Tempe, can I ask you about the relationship between Kathy and her extremely hot partner?" Jess asked, the mischievous glint in her eye reminding Brennan of Angela.

"You can ask, but I'm not promising I'll answer it," Brennan told her, smiling back.

"Do you draw on actual experience for their encounters, or is it all made up?" the woman asked, obviously trying for some details of her personal relationship with Booth.

Yelling on the field stopped Brennan from answering the question, as they turned their attention to see someone hunched over in pain, with the rest of the group surrounding him. Even from the distance, Brennan knew it was Booth. Jumping up, she ran to the circle, leaving Jess alone at the table.

"It always ends with someone getting hurt," Jess said, rolling her eyes and following Brennan toward the crowd.


	33. First Aid

Chapter 33—First Aid

Brennan reached the edge of the circle of people who were crowding around Booth. Pushing her way into the middle, she saw Booth on the ground, holding his ankle, with a grimace of pain on his face.

"What happened?" Brennan asked, kneeling next to him. As gently as she could, she pried his hands off of his leg and felt for broken bones.

"I fell… or tripped… I guess," Booth tried to tell her as he tried to slow down and control his breathing. Leaning back on his hands, Booth closed his eyes tightly while Brennan examined his ankle.

"Did you hear a pop or snap?" Brennan continued asking, pulling his shoe and sock off so she could check his foot.

"No, I don't think so," Booth told her, still keeping his eyes closed. "It isn't broken, right?"

"No, I think it's probably just a sprained ankle," Brennan told him, after checking all the bones. "We should take you in to get it checked out, just in case, though."

"Fine," Booth agreed, opening his eyes to look at the group of people gathered around him. "Who's going to help me to the car?"

Jared and the man Jess had pointed out as her husband stepped forward, each grabbing an arm and hauling Booth on to his good foot. While they started the slow walk to the parking lot, Brennan stood to gather Parker and her purse.

"Dr. Bones!" Parker yelled, running toward her as fast as his five year-old legs could carry him.

Brennan had just reached the table where she had left her purse, when Parker stumbled over his own feet, tumbling down onto the soft grass about ten feet from her. Even though she had been spending more time with Parker, she was still taken by surprise at the wail of pain he let out.

Grabbing her bag, she rushed to his side, kneeling in the grass and mud. "Are you okay, Parker? Did you get hurt?" she asked frantically, trying to check the little boy for any injuries.

"My," he gasped, still wailing as if the world was coming to an end. "My kneeeee!"

Looking at the knee he was holding onto, Brennan could see he had managed to get a good scrape during his fall. "How about we go to the car and get you cleaned up?" Brennan asked him, "and then we can get you a Spongebob band aid."

"Can I have Patrick?" he asked, his sobs subsiding as he looked up at Brennan with tears still shining in his big brown eyes.

"Of course you can have Patrick," she told him, wondering who on earth Patrick was. Scooping him up, she carried him towards the SUV, where Booth and the others had stopped to look when they heard Parker's cries.

"What happened?" Booth asked, as soon as they were close enough to hear him, his voice laced with worry.

"He just fell down and scraped his knee," Brennan replied, holding Parker with one arm while opening the back of the SUV with her free hand. "I'm going to clean off his cut while you try to get into the front seat," she told him, setting Parker down in the cargo space so she could pull out the first aid kit.

"Whoa, whoa, Bones. My car. I drive," Booth argued, half in shock from watching Brennan take care of Parker.

"Booth, your right foot is the one that is hurt, and that's the one you use to drive. You don't have a choice this time," Brennan explained to him, while gently wiping the mud and blood from Parker's knee. "Now get in the car, I'm almost done."

"Fine, fine," Booth grumbled, letting Jared pull open the door and help him into the car without jarring his ankle.

"Now, Parker, you get to pick out your band aid," Brennan said, handing over the container while she dabbed antibiotic ointment on the scrape.

"Thanks Dr. Bones," Parker grinned happily, pulling out a blue bandage with a pink starfish wearing yellow and green shorts on it.

Putting the bandage over his knee, Brennan put the first aid kit back and closed the back of the vehicle. Walking around to the driver side, she helped Parker into his booster seat in the back, and then climbed into the front seat.

"I'm just going to catch a ride back with Joe and Jess," Jared told them, giving Booth one last shove to get him inside the vehicle. "I'll see you back at the house."

"Yeah, we'll see you in a while," Booth said off-handedly, glaring at Brennan's expectant hand that was currently waiting for the keys.

* * *

No less than four hours later, the exhausted trio pulled into the driveway at Booth's parents' house. Brennan emerged first, climbing out of the driver seat to get the sleeping Parker out of the back seat. Booth exited at a much slower pace, climbing gingerly from the car and being sure to keep all his weight off his wrapped and swollen ankle. 

Pulling his crutches out of the back, Booth began the slow trek to the front door, with Brennan following along behind him.

After what seemed like a million years, the three entered the warmth of the house, only to hear Jared's rendition of what had happened earlier that afternoon. "And then he just fell, Pop, tripped over his own two big feet!"

"That's not how it went down and you know it," Booth grumbled from the entryway. Making his way into the living room, he set about telling the story as it really happened.

"I'm going to go put Parker down," Brennan said to his retreating form, carrying the boy upstairs to the bedroom he was staying in. Setting him down carefully, she pulled his shoes and jacket off, then covered him with the soft quilt. Closing the door behind her, she headed back down the stairs to get a cup of tea and sit in the living room.

Once again, Brennan found herself surprisingly comfortable with Booth and his family that weekend, letting herself into the kitchen and boiling some water. It was never something she had imagined she would do again, being like part of the family. Even with Parker, she knew it had taken a lot of work to get to the point she was at, but she was comfortable with it.

With her tea just the way she liked it, she made her way back into the living room, just in time to hear the end of Booth's story.

"…and then all four of them came running at me, and there was a loud crunch, right as I hit the mud!"


	34. Destroy

Chapter 34—Destroy

Booth pulled into his parking space at the Hoover building, letting out a sigh of relief to be out of the Jeffersonian for the first time in almost 24 hours. The case they'd been working on had kept the whole team there around the clock, and the squints were still working hard. The only reason Booth had left was because he had an agent conduct meeting that he couldn't get out of.

Dragging his weary body into the building, Booth estimated he had just enough time to wash up and change his suit before he had to be in the conference room.

Ten minutes later, Booth slipped into the conference room, already packed with field agents. Grabbing a chair in the corner, Booth set in for a long, boring lecture on the proper conduct agents should display when out in the field.

* * *

_Meanwhile, back in the lab…_

"Dr. Brennan! I think I found something," Zack called from the platform, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. They hadn't had a break in the case in almost twenty hours, and if he was correct, it could mean wrapping the case up within a couple hours.

Eager to see what Zack had discovered, Hodgins and Angela abandoned their own work to go up to the platform. Unconsciously, Hodgins checked to be sure he hadn't left anything exposed before pulling the door shut on his way to Zack's station.

Cam and Brennan had both moved toward the platform when they heard the call, leaving their work in the middle of what they were doing. This, in Cam's case, meant leaving the remaining pieces of organs on the table when she rushed out, sliding the door shut behind her.

The team circled around Zack, looking impatiently at the screen, waiting for everyone to assemble.

"What do you have for us, Zack?" Brennan asked, quickly rubbing her eyes to clear the exhaustion away before she turned her attention to the screen in front of her colleague.

"Here," Zack pointed to the screen. "It's almost imperceptible."

* * *

"Remember," the speaker said, "we have to work with other departments and offices. Even if your position is superior to the people you're working with, don't act like you're their superior. You're expected to have a professional demeanor and cooperate."

Booth rolled his eyes, wondering for the millionth time why he was being forced to sit through this seminar. He'd heard it all when he was training for his position, and at least once a year since then.

_If someone could use this, it's Bones_, he grinned to himself, trying to imagine her acting equal to the local police officers and departments they regularly worked with. It made a great picture in his head, especially as it was the only thing keeping him awake through the monotonous speaker's lecture.

Booth's phone vibrated in his pocket, giving him a well-deserved distraction, just as the speaker was starting on the part about inappropriate relationships between agents and partners in the field.

Hiding the movement behind the person sitting to his right, Booth slid the phone out and flipped it open to see the text message he had just received from his partner.

"911," was all she had sent, but it was enough for Booth to know he was done with the meeting. The team had found something, and it was time for him to get back to work.

Slipping quietly from the room, Booth speed-dialed Brennan on his way to the parking garage.

* * *

Impatiently waiting for Booth to call her back, Brennan paced the length of the platform, not making eye-contact with any of her colleagues.

Cam had slipped back into her lab to finish going over her findings from the organs, and the other three sat quietly, waiting for Brennan to do something.

As she turned when she reached the end of her pathway, her attention was caught by a young woman with a box under her arm, opening the door to Hodgins' station. Before she could alert her friend to the presumed delivery, her phone was ringing.

"Booth?" she asked, her voice threaded with worry, unhappiness, and uncertainty.

* * *

"Ok, Bones, I'm on my way over," Booth told her, opening the door to his vehicle. "I just got in the car. Stay there. All of you. No one leaves until I get there and say otherwise, got it?" 

"Yes, Booth, since that's exactly what we were already planning on," Brennan's irritated voice flooded the silence of the car when he switched the phone to speaker.

"Fine, Bones, sorry," he replied, trying to keep his voice at least somewhat sincere. "Now tell me what exactly it was that Zack found, on the leg bone?"

"There's no such thing as a leg bone, Booth," Brennan told him, "One would think you should know that after working with us for so long."

"Sorry I'm not a bone genius like the rest of you, but just tell me what you guys found, alright?" The longer they argued, the harder it was getting to keep the impatience out of his voice.

"Well, Zack found a microscopic puncture on the left femur of the victim," Brennan explained. "It was almost invisible, except…" her voice trailed off.

"Except, what? Bones?" Booth asked, wondering where his partner's attention had gone.

"Except," her voice came back, "that he was going over every millimeter of the bone on a one thousand times magnification. We ran the mark through the system and the only thing we came up with was," her voice was cut off abruptly by an explosion, the sound momentarily filling the vehicle and deafening Booth, before the line went dead.

* * *

**AN: Mwahahaha… I mean, stay tuned for the next installment of "It Starts with a Promise." What exploded at the lab? Should Booth have stayed to hear the part of the meeting about proper relationships between partners? What was it that Zack found? How does the ink come out of pens? Will I continue the next chapter straight after this one, or skip to something entirely different?**


	35. Burn

**For those of you who wanted answers to all the questions from the last chapter… Some of them are answered here, some aren't. And there are a couple of reviews answering the question about ink in pens, so go look there if you're really interested. Haha, I will answer two of them, though. 1. Booth PROBABLY should've stayed for the rest of the seminar, don't you think? 2. Yes, this chapter immediately follows the explosion. Now, onto the action!**

* * *

Chapter 35—Burn 

Pushing his foot down harder on the gas, Booth took a hard right turn followed by a left. Swerving in front of traffic, he tried to call her back just as he made the last turn and pulled up in front of the lab.

What was left of the lab, that was. The corner of the building that was occupied by the Medico-Legal lab was in flames. The first floor windows around the lab had blown outward, scattering glass into the streets, and flames licked their way up into the sky.

The ample availability of oxygen fueled the fire, allowing it to grow in front of Booth's eyes, as it moved to consume the second floor. He could hear sirens in the distance, but they barely registered as his mind tried to process the destruction in front of him.

Jumping from the vehicle, Booth sent up a silent prayer that Brennan and the rest of the squints had been able to make it out alive. Looking at the obliterated lab, Booth prayed harder, knowing their chances were small.

The next few minutes passed by in a blur, as the fire department arrived and worked to put out the flames. Paramedics and ambulances lined the street, treating the minor injuries and taking the more severe cases to the nearest hospitals.

With each body being pulled from the building, Booth looked to see if it was one of his team, but none came. He tried to fight down the panic that had spread throughout every nerve in his body, keeping him on edge. He was losing his control with each passing moment, as his hope that Brennan and the rest of his squints had survived dwindled.

Finally, the fire was completely out. There had been major structural damage, and the firefighters were proceeding with caution into the remains of the lab, to pull out anyone they could find.

Two bodies were removed, charred beyond recognition. Placed on the vibrant green grass in front of the lab, the two were pronounced dead. They had obviously been right near the center of the explosion.

"Agent Booth?" one of the firefighters asked, approaching Booth's worried form.

"Yes?" Booth all but snapped at the man, immediately regretting it when he looked at who had spoken to him. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," the man told him, understanding that is was hard to wait for news. "I have someone who has been asking for you."

"Who is it?" Booth asked, following the firefighter as the wound their way through the chaos of bodies and equipment to the other side of the building.

"A Zack Addy," the man explained, pointing to where Booth could see the young scientist sitting on the curb, a pack of ice held to the back of his head.

"Thank you," Booth replied sincerely, jogging to where Zack was seated.

"Zack!" Booth yelled at the young man, his eyes still alert for any sign of Brennan or the other squints. Stopping in front of him, Booth could see that Zack had gotten banged up pretty well, and had a couple of burns, but it didn't look too serious. "Where's Bones? And everyone else?"

Zack looked up from where he was seated, and Booth felt for the kid, remembering the only other time Zack had been in an explosion. Well, he hoped it had been the only other time.

"Cam," Zack breathed deeply, trying to clear the smoke from his lungs, "went to GW for burns. Angela and Hodgins," Zack wheezed, gesturing off to his left "are over getting checked out."

"Where's Bones?" Booth demanded, looking at the younger man. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," Zack told him, not meeting his intense gaze. "She was walking towards Cam's office when the explosion happened, but after that, I don't know."

"Thanks, Zack," Booth touched his shoulder, carefully avoiding the burns. "I'll be back when I find something out."

Jogging in the direction Zack had waved, Booth kept his eyes out for Hodgins and Angela, but he was intent on finding his partner.

"Bones!" Booth called, winding through the crowds, his badge in his hand to keep people from trying to hold him back. "Bones!"

"Booth," he head from his right, the woman fighting to yell his name over the noise and her smoke inhalation.

Turning, Booth spied Angela sitting on the ground with Hodgins, both with breathing tubes in hand. "Have you guys seen Bones?" He questioned as soon as he was close enough to talk over the commotion.

The pair shook their heads, neither of them having seen anything after the explosion.

"I'm going to keep looking for her. Cam went to GW, and Zack is over on the corner," Booth pointed, letting them know where the rest of their friends were.

With nods from both of them, Booth took off again in search of his partner. When he'd realized the firefighters had been pulling people out of the back windows, he had hoped to find Brennan, but once again those hopes were starting to wane with each passing minute.

When he was sure he had gone through and checked everywhere and everyone who was left outside the lab, Booth knew she wasn't there. Making his way back to where he had left Zack, Booth saw that Angela and Hodgins had joined him.

Dropping onto the curb next to Hodgins, Booth ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. "I can't find her anywhere," he told them, not looking at them when he spoke. "No one knows where she is or if she was sent to one of the hospitals."

He could feel Angela's hand find its way onto his shoulder, but he found no comfort from it.

"What happened?" Hodgins croaked, his voice still tight from the smoke.

"The best they can figure right now is there was probably a chemical explosion," Booth told them. "Did any of you see anything?"

Before anyone could answer, Booth's phone was ringing. Pulling it quickly out of his pocket, he answered the unknown call, praying it was Brennan.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth?" the woman on the other end was asking, her voice annoyingly cheerful.

"Speaking," Booth replied tersely, hoping the woman had something good to tell him.

"I'm calling from the George Washington Medical Center. We have a patient who has listed you as their emergency contact," the woman's voice was already irritating Booth.

"Who?" he asked, praying it was Brennan.

"A Camille Saroyan," the woman told him. "She just went in for treatment, but asked us to give you a call."

"Is she going to be alright?" Booth asked, wanting to know about Cam, even through his worries over his partner's safety.

"She has some major burns, but the doctors don't expect she'll need any grafts, which is a good thing," the woman explained.

"Thank you," Booth cut her off. "Can you let her know I'll be down as soon as I can?"

"Yes, sir," the woman told him, "I'll let her know as soon as possible."

Without saying goodbye, Booth hung up the phone, sending up a silent prayer for news about Brennan.

He hadn't even opened his mouth to tell the rest of the squints about Cam's condition, when the firefighter from before approached the group, drawing Booth's attention.

"Agent Booth," the man called as he crossed the street. "Your partner is on her way to GW right now."

"Doctor Brennan?" Booth asked, just to be clear, his spirits lifting to hear she was alive.

"Yeah, Doctor Brennan. She asked someone to find you and let you know," he explained to the group, whom had all just climbed to their feet.

"Thank you," Booth told the firefighter, shaking his hand gratefully as he pointed the others in the direction of his SUV. "Thank you."

Without a backwards glance, Booth and the squints rushed towards the car, eager to get to the hospital and see how their friends were doing.


	36. Crisis

**Sorry guys, no cutesy hospital scene ::sad face:: We're jumping ahead a few weeks to Brennan's release from the hospital.**

* * *

36—Crisis 

Two days after her release from the hospital, Doctor Temperance Brennan was in her apartment packing. Systematically, as if she could do it in her sleep, she packed a bag of khaki pants and white long-sleeved shirts, with enough underclothes to last her a week. She packed no jewelry, and the only shoes she had placed in the bag were a pair of dark brown work boots.

Moving into the study, she packed a smaller bag, this one with her personal laptop and accessories, followed by a series of small shovels and brushes, and finally a digital camera. Checking that everything had been packed so as not to break during travel, she zipped the bag shut and placed it by the front door.

With one more check to be sure she had everything she would need, she was finally satisfied she hadn't forgotten anything. Moving quickly through the apartment, she checked the locks on the windows and pulled the blinds shut. Stopping in the entryway, she placed two white envelopes on the table, turned on the alarm, picked up her bags, and left the apartment.

* * *

Booth dialed her number again, cursing softly when it went directly to voicemail. He'd been trying to call her for the last couple of hours, and hadn't had any luck. She'd obviously turned off her cell, and she wasn't answering her home phone because she wasn't at home.

He knew she wasn't home because he'd already gone by her apartment earlier in the day and noticed her car was gone; otherwise he'd have broken down the door to make sure she was alright.

Pacing the length of his living room, he tried to tell himself that she was fine. That she had a very good excuse for her to be away from her apartment and have her phone off. He tried to make himself believe she hadn't been kidnapped, that she wasn't tied up in some warehouse bleeding to death and in pain.

It wasn't working. Trying to get his mind off of where he was afraid she was, he began thinking of the places she might be. Normally the lab would be his first guess, but since the lab had literally been destroyed in the explosion and subsequent fire, that wasn't an option.

Flipping open his phone, he dialed Angela, hoping the artist had somehow managed to get Brennan out of her apartment.

"Angela, hey, have you seen Bones?" he asked, successfully keeping the worry out of his voice.

"Not today. I tried calling her earlier, but she didn't pick up. I figured she was with you," Angela told him, curious as to where her friend was. "I'm guessing by the call that you haven't seen her either."

"No, and she's not at home," Booth replied, the concern squeezing itself back into his voice. "I'm going to try a couple of other places. If you hear from her, have her call me, alright?"

"Of course. I hope you find her," Angela told him, her voice filled with worry that hadn't been there at the beginning of the conversation.

* * *

Brennan stood in line for security, her gaze focused on the floor. Fingering the boarding passes in her pocket, she took another step forward in the line, wondering how long it would take Booth to realize she wasn't at home.

_He probably realized it already,_ she thought. _And he's probably working himself up into a frenzy_. She felt guilty for making him worry, but she knew it was the only way she'd be able to get away without him coming after her.

Lifting her bag from where it had been resting at her feet, Brennan showed her boarding pass to the airport security guard and passed by him towards the metal detectors.

* * *

Booth drove towards the Royal Diner, hoping she had decided to grab some food. Without even pulling over, he knew she hadn't. She wasn't at their usual table, nor was her car in the parking lot.

Sid's was his next stop. Heading away from the Mall, in traffic, Booth pulled out his phone and dialed GW Medical Center.

After explaining to countless people that he was an FBI agent looking for his partner, he finally reached the doctor who had been treating her. No, she hadn't come back for any reason, was all he managed to get from the doctor before being hung up on.

With a sigh, he pulled into the parking lot of Sid's, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of her silver sports car. It wasn't there.

He was already on his way out to Hodgins' estate when he thought to call the prison where her father was. No, Max Keenan hadn't had any visitors today.

Calling Angela back, he informed her of what was going on.

Twenty minutes later, Booth and Angela were heading back to Brennan's apartment, spare key in hand.

* * *

It wasn't as if she had just abandoned everyone right after the explosion, Brennan mused while sitting in the boarding area. She had been in the hospital for nearly three weeks, being treated for a concussion, two cracked ribs, and a myriad of abrasions and burns of varying degrees.

Quietly she had spent her days in the hospital bed, never once complaining about wanting to get out. Rarely speaking at all. Booth and Angela had tried to get her to talk; Sweets had tried as well. They'd even called Dr Wyatt to come by to see her, but she wouldn't talk about anything.

Booth had brought in her laptop, and she spent the days sending emails and working on her next novel. She ignored the nurses and doctors when they came in, not even acknowledging them to argue with their assessments.

She knew Booth had been worried about her, but she really just didn't have anything to say. The doctors told him it was shock, and perhaps a mild case of amnesia. She knew they were wrong, and yet she didn't disagree with them.

The day she had been released, she had asked Booth to take her by the lab before they went to her apartment. He'd acquiesced, if only because she'd actually talked to him.

That's when she finally saw what had become of her precious lab. Her lab, her refuge, the place she'd felt the most safe, the most comfortable, since she had been a child. It had been reduced to nearly nothing.

Even three weeks after the explosion, they were just barely setting about working on it. The investigation into the explosion had taken a number of days, followed by another week of neutralizing any chemicals and residual complications from the explosion. Then clearing away the debris took days, especially in the lab itself, where machines and electronics had suffered severe damage.

The Angelator had been reduced to a tangle of wires and metal framing, Angela had told her, nearly in tears that her brain child had suffered such a horrific death.

Losing the lab and all her hard work had been too much for Brennan to handle, so as soon as Booth had left her alone in her apartment she had booked a plane ticket online.

* * *

Booth and Angela entered Brennan's apartment, knocking just in case she really was home. The beeping of the alarm told them she wasn't.

Stepping into the entryway to enter the code that would deactivate the alarm, Booth saw the envelopes on the table, sitting next to Brennan's cell phone.

Picking up the letter with his name on it, Booth silently passed the other to Angela, and began reading.


	37. Hunger

37—Hunger

Brennan knelt in the dirt, gently brushing away the rich black earth from the skull she was working on. Her back was screaming at her in pain, her muscles tense from days of sitting in the same position while she worked on the mass grave.

Two weeks into her trip, Brennan was still thankful for the offer to get out of the District. She hadn't been out on a major excavation since Booth had become her partner, and she was quickly remembering why she loved it.

Gently lifting the skull from its earthy home, she placed it on the blue tarp to her left. The turning motion relieved some of the tension in her lower back, and she took a moment to stretch her arms above her head. Closing her eyes against the blinding sun, she stretched until her back was mostly relaxed, then settled back in to start uncovering the bones that had been buried next to the skull.

Hours later, as the sun was dropping low on the horizon and the impending darkness was making it nearly impossible to see, she stood from her position in the dirt, stretching as she walked to stand at the end of the blue tarp. She had two nearly-complete skeletons laid out before her, one of a middle-aged woman and one of a teenage boy, both with bullet holes through the base of the skull.

Quickly and systematically, she packed the two skeletons into separate crates to be sent back to the make-shift lab she was using at the local university. When the crates were safely in the van, and the site had been secured for the night, she climbed into the vehicle alongside her three colleagues.

The trip back to the city was long and bumpy, even as the driver did his best to avoid the larger potholes on the dirt road. The driver tried to get them back to the city as quickly as he could, but he couldn't avoid the drive being interrupted for nearly twenty minutes, when he was forced to stop to wait for a herd of sheep to cross the road before they could continue towards the distant lights of the city.

Brennan closed her eyes amongst the chatter of her colleagues, who were talking anxiously about what had been uncovered that day, and settled back against the seat. She was startled awake thirty minutes later, though she would've sworn it had only been five, when the van reached the edge of the city.

Stolac was a small, quiet town on the Bregava River in southern Bosnia-Herzegovina. Brennan was struck, not for the first time, by the beauty of the city. It was one of the oldest settlements in south-western Europe, and a treasure trove of history and intrigue for her.

The team, made up of both archeologists and anthropologists, was staying in one of the small hotels of the city, right near the water. After dropping them off, the van made its way toward Mostar, the closest city, to unload that day's work in the university's lab.

With an exhausted smile, Brennan followed the others into the building, and walked slowly toward her room. Intent on having a long, hot shower then going to sleep, her plans were interrupted when she realized the hot water had already been turned off for the night.

Shivering under the cold spray, she rinsed the dirt and sweat from her body as quickly as she could. Climbing out of the ice-box, she dried herself quickly and pulled on her pajama pants and an old FBI t-shirt, thankful for the warmth they provided to her slender frame.

While she brushed her hair out, she thought about when she had gotten the t-shirt.

_She had been out in the field with Booth that day, not at a crime scene, but visiting the family of the victim. Booth had knocked on the front door, with Brennan standing off to the side and slightly behind him while they waited for someone to answer._

_When the man had opened the door, he had assumed Booth and Brennan were there to arrest him, and so he made an attempt to run. He pushed Brennan into a freshly-painted pillar, coating her white blouse in blue paint._

_After an extremely short chase, Booth had the guy cuffed and sitting on the ground next to the SUV while they waited for someone to come pick him up. _

_While Brennan watched the man, Booth had reached into the back and pulled out one of his old shirts that he kept there, just in case. Handing it to Brennan, she had pulled it on, covering her ruined blouse._

_She wore it back to her apartment that night, and just never gave it back. It wasn't like she had forgotten about it, since she wore it to sleep in nearly every night, he just never asked for it back._

Brennan smiled in the mirror, wondering what Booth was up to at that moment. She hadn't talked to him since she'd arrived in Bosnia because she knew he would ask her why she had left, and she wasn't quite ready to answer that question.

She knew the answer, she had known it since the moment the explosion shook the lab. She just wasn't ready to tell _him_ the answer.

Her empty stomach interrupted her thoughts, and she smiled, knowing Booth would lecture her for not having eaten. As she thought about it, she wondered when the last time was she had eaten. Probably the day before, she decided, not realizing it had been so long. When she was in the field she got caught up in her work, and as a result she forgot to do things like eat.

Changing her pajama pants for a pair of jeans and sneakers, she pulled on a sweatshirt and headed out into the city, looking for dinner.

Finding a café that was still open, she ordered sarma and a cup of coffee. Sitting outside on the patio, overlooking the river, Brennan slowly ate the rolled cabbage leaves filled with meat, enjoying the variety of flavors and spices. Sipping her Turkish coffee, Brennan's thoughts once again returned to Booth and what he was doing.


	38. Wrong

38—Wrong

"Predrag Kristic," Brennan said, writing the name on the outside of a cardboard box. "Age fourteen. Died April 1994. Cause of death: single gunshot wound to the base of the skull. Found: thirty miles outside of Stolac, Bosnia-Herzegovina; mass gravesite."

After double checking the packing around the remains, she placed the report folder on top and sealed the box. Carrying it to the side wall, she added it to the growing stack of identical boxes, some labeled with names, but most with just the case number.

Moving back to the table, she opened a new box and unloaded the bones of the victim, arranging them in order to find any identifying marks that would aid in finding the name of the dead.

She worked quickly and methodically, writing down every find in the case file before cross-referencing the file against a printed list of the people who disappeared during the war, from 1991 to 1995, in the entire region.

Without a searchable database for the missing, identifying the victims took longer than most were willing to spend. While her three colleagues were out in the field collecting the last of the remains, Brennan had chosen to spend her days in the solitude of the single-room laboratory, giving names to the boxes of remains.

While she worked, she tried to ignore the atrocities of a war that had severely crippled an entire region. She tried to forget that each and every one of these victims had been lined up and executed by the opposing side, then dumped in a mass grave, to be forgotten.

So she buried herself in the intimate details of each body, studying healed breaks and fractures, age markers, anything that would help her to narrow down the list of the hundreds of thousands of missing or presumed dead. Most names on the list did not have anything listed to help her identify the remains. Only those who had surviving family members who reported them missing had any information, and it was vague at best.

Scanning the list, Brennan was looking for a name she had passed hundreds of times in the last week. She was sure she had finally found the body to match the name.

"Olya Milicic. Born 7 September 1971. Broken arm, age 7. 3 gold crowns on molars. Bad left knee," she mumbled, reading the entry she had found. Cross-referencing with her findings, Brennan was confident she had matched the body to a name. Labeling the outside of the box, she sealed it and placed it in the pile on the side of the room.

Her next three cases were not as fortunate, as she was not able to find names for them. Labeled with the case numbers and as much information as she could provide, they were also placed in the pile.

Clearing the room, she cleaned the table and tools she had used, and stored them for the night. Grabbing her bag, she closed and locked the lab, her body desperate for food and sleep.

While she walked the two blocks from the University to her hotel, she wondered why everything felt wrong. _I'm doing good work, here,_ she told herself. _I'm identifying the victims of war and giving their families closure, just like I've done dozens of times in the past. So why does it feel so wrong to be here this time?_

She stopped only to pick up something for dinner at the corner café before making her way back to her hotel room. From her window, she could see the old bridge that had been destroyed in the war and rebuilt over the last decade.

Watching the bridge and the river it crossed, Brennan continued to ponder what she was feeling. _It just doesn't make sense,_ she thought. _Why am I feeling this now? It's not like I could've been working back in DC, without a lab. I would've just been in the apartment working on my novel while they got the lab rebuilt. Booth would be assigned to different cases while we couldn't work. There's no reason I should be feeling like this._

The longer she thought about Booth and why she was there, it slowly dawned on her what was different. _Yes, I needed something to keep my mind off of what happened at the lab,_ she realized, _but I didn't need to come here. I could have gone to Colombia or Argentina. I could have gone to Rwanda or Sudan. But I came here, because I knew Booth wouldn't come after me here._

Startled by her sudden revelation, she thought about calling him, to let him know she was alright. She had told him in the letter where she was going, and she had asked him not to come after her or try to contact her while she was gone. She had told him she would be back in a month.

So why was she feeling as if she had betrayed him? _Because you did,_ the little voice in the back of her head told her. _You went to the one place Booth would never go back to. You went to the source of his nightmares and his demons, _the voice taunted, sounding an awful lot like Angela._ You went because you knew he couldn't come after you. You knew he'd worry, and stress while you were gone, but you went anyway._

Needing to get away from the accusing voice, Brennan turned the television on, hoping to drown it out with something on the BBC.

_I'm doing good, being here,_ she told herself. _I'm doing good. I'm doing good. It's not wrong that I came here,_ she repeated to herself, over and over until sleep overtook her.

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

Booth was pacing the Los Angeles FBI office, waiting for Zack to finish his preliminary report. "Well?" he asked, his frustration rising.

"If you would stop pacing for a few minutes, I might be able to think long enough to find something," Zack told him, studying the bones carefully.

"Fine," Booth announced, "I'll be back in an hour. Try to have something for me by then."

Zack didn't bother replying as Booth walked out, slamming the door behind him. Once he was sure Booth was out of earshot, he wondered aloud, "How does Doctor Brennan deal with that?!"

Booth, however, was muttering about Zack's incompetence and being too slow in his work as he crossed the street. Waiting in line for coffee, Booth pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, re-reading her letter for the thousandth time.

_Booth,_

_I took some personal time to go work on a mass grave in Bosnia. I will be back in 4 weeks. I didn't take my phone and I doubt I'll have internet access, so you won't be able to contact me. Please don't come after me._

_See you in a month,_

_Temperance_


End file.
